


Always in Motion is the Future

by AlwaysGhostly, KarmaHope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Rex, Ahsoka Tano-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Demi Ahsoka, Developing Relationship Handled Delicately, Domestic Fluff, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Mission Fic, More Like 'What Happens After It's Fixed', Non-Linear Narrative, POV Multiple, Padmé Amidala Lives, Post-Order 66, Post-Season/Series 05 AU, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 54,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysGhostly/pseuds/AlwaysGhostly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmaHope/pseuds/KarmaHope
Summary: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, the Galactic Republic still stands: damaged, but not shattered.All it took was one person, one decision, to alter the course of the future. Ahsoka left the Order, but she refused to leave her friends. Little did she know that in keeping her attachments, she would ultimately bring about the defeat of Darth Sidious and save thousands from Order 66.But what happens next? The story doesn’t stop with Sidious’s death. As the Republic rebuilds, the galaxy and its heroes must slowly begin to heal. The war may be over, but the cleanup is going to be just as much work.After all, it’s hard to plan for a future you were never meant to see.
Relationships: 501st Legion & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 100
Kudos: 414





	1. Home is Where the Heart is

**Author's Note:**

> There's a longer authors' note at the end of this chapter because this fic means a lot to both of us, but we know you want to get straight to the story. Just a couple notes beforehand:
> 
> 1\. We'd like to thank zinjadu for allowing us to use the _Adamant_ from her _Knight-Errant_ series.
> 
> 2\. We started this fic before s7 premiered. We're working on going back and yanking things closer to canon, but there are some inconsistencies in early chapters.
> 
> 3\. @canon: we reject your reality and substitute our own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patch Notes 11.25.20: fixed some continuity errors, added a couple references to s7  
> Patch Notes 01.12.21: updated the opening crawl

* * *

**A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...**

* * *

**15:03:12 (14 months ago)  
12 months before Order 66  
Steps of the Jedi Temple  
2000h**

_“Believe me. I, more than anyone, understand wanting to leave the Order.”_

The sunset behind the Coruscanti skyline was beautiful. Tendrils of pinks and oranges stretched across the sky, plunging the reaching skyscrapers into stark silhouette. It was a skyline like none other, gorgeous beyond compare.

Ahsoka Tano paused at the base of the steps leading up to the Jedi Temple and stared into the sunset. It taunted her, beckoning her to take the final step away from her old life. It would finish setting behind her, making everything official.

These steps did not lead to the Jedi Temple, not for her. Not today. They led away from it, for she was walking away, and it was unlikely she would ever return. She didn't think she _could_ return, even as part of her yearned to do precisely that. 

Despite everything that had happened, despite knowing she was making the right decision… leaving home was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

She knew she shouldn't look back. She knew it would only make everything harder. Standing on the final step, she felt her master's– her former master's– eyes burning holes in the back of her head. If she was honest with herself, it wasn't leaving the Jedi Order that was the worst part. The Council, save for Master Obi-Wan and Master Plo, could go kriff themselves. It was the thought of leaving Anakin – her master, her friend, her _family_ – that caused her to hesitate.

There was no question that Anakin Skywalker was an unconventional Jedi. It was evident in his teaching methods, and it was evident in his leadership style. It caused friction with the Council, including Master Obi-Wan. After years of working so closely with him, Ahsoka knew she understood him in a way that none of the other Jedi could. It wasn't Master Obi-Wan’s fault; he just had firmly established ideas about what a Jedi _should_ be, and didn’t stop to think about what a Jedi _could_ be.

In Ahsoka, Anakin had found a kindred spirit, and she was cutting him off much in the same way she'd cut off her Padawan beads.

It shouldn’t have been a problem. The Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments. Ahsoka knew why. How could she not, when the doctrine had been explained to her as soon as she was old enough to understand it? Attachment led to possession and selfishness, which in turn led to the dark side. It made sense, but although she understood the theory, she had never understood it in practice. Attachment was an intrinsic nature of sentient beings. Even some non-sentient beings formed attachments. To forbid attachment was to make it a forbidden fruit: secret, shameful, something to crave but condemn.

The truth of the matter was, she’d always been attached.

To Master Plo.  
To Anakin.  
To Master Obi-Wan.  
To the men who served under her.

Hell… even to R2-D2.

At the foot of those steps, she realized it wasn’t right. With the Coruscanti sun setting on everything she’d ever known, she realized she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t – _wouldn’t –_ leave her master– former master– to the loth-wolves. She wouldn’t leave him to the wolves of the Council, and she wouldn’t leave him to the wolves she’d felt circling in the Force since this whole debacle began.

At the foot of those steps, faced with the beginning of the rest of her life, she realized she was _free._

She turned on her heel and hurtled back up the steps to where her master– former master– still stood. The Force flowed as freely through her as it did when she was still a Jedi, perhaps even more so. Anakin barely had enough time to brace himself before she hit him with a flying tackle-hug.

"Ahsoka?" He sounded bewildered. "Are you–?"

Ahsoka shook her head, her face buried in his robes. “I’ve still gotta go,” she said regretfully. “You know I do, Anakin. Maybe I’ll come back, and maybe I won’t, but I have to figure that out for myself.”

She felt Anakin’s sigh more than she heard it. “Yeah,” he said. She withered inside at the sorrow buried within that one word. “I know. I’m gonna miss you, Snips. It’s not fair! The Council–”

Ahsoka pulled away and grasped Anakin’s forearms. She caught his gaze, forestalling his outburst. “I might be leaving the Order, but I’m _not_ leaving you. I _promise_.” She tightened her grip. Something in the Force was telling her it was imperative he not only hear what she was saying, but genuinely understand it. “I still have my comm. If you ever need me for any reason, even if it's just to talk, I'll answer. Okay? And I hope you'll do the same for me.”

Anakin nodded slowly. Maybe he, too, felt the importance of this moment. She hoped he did. “Of course I will, Ahsoka.” He paused. “Are you sure?”

With one last squeeze, she let go. Stepping back, she forced a grin. "I'm not a Jedi anymore," she reminded him with levity at odds with the situation at hand. "I can be attached as I want."

She tossed him a jaunty salute and a wink as she turned to leave, for good this time. “I’ll see you around, Skyguy,” she said over her shoulder. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried!”

Anakin cleared his throat. “I’ll hold you to that!”

Ahsoka descended the steps of the Jedi Temple the second time with far more bounce in her step than she had before. The melancholy wouldn't set in again until later that night when she settled into a cheap, dingy motel in Coruscant's lower levels.

Truly alone for the first time in her life, with only the throbbing bass from the club next door for company, she’d cry in a way she hadn’t cried since she was a youngling.

* * *

**16:07:26 (Present Day) **  
**2 months after Order 66  
The _Adamant,_ in Orbit Above Naboo  
1300h**

Ahsoka stood on the bridge of the _Adamant_ as the Venator-class Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace. She took a deep breath as realspace filled the forward viewport, stars sliding to a halt as gleaming pinprick points against the black canvas. In a single moment, Naboo appeared before them, its oceans and lakes glimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

She released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “It’s so… _peaceful_ ,” she murmured, more to herself than anything.

“Most planets are, from this high up,” Commander Rex said from where he stood at her right elbow. “Unless there’s an active dogfight in orbit.”

Ahsoka smiled wryly as she glanced over at him. “I think we’ve come out of hyperspace to more of those than we haven’t.”

“You’re probably right, Commander.”

She sighed. It had been two months, and yet none of this felt any more real than it had when she first met Anakin and Obi-Wan in the hangar bay of the _Adamant_. After she left the Temple, she spent a year between Coruscant's underbelly and bouncing across the galaxy as a free agent until she crossed paths with Bo-Katan. She had approached her return to the GAR with a fair amount of trepidation. She was given command of the _Adamant_ , which had previously been Anakin’s flagship after the _Resolute_ was destroyed at the Battle of Sullust, along with half a battalion of troopers on loan from the 501st. Then, she had been left to take Mandalore back from Darth Maul and the Death Watch while her masters answered a summons back to Coruscant.

It was never going to be a straightforward campaign. Even if they'd captured Maul in a little under a week, add to that the two months of rebuilding they'd stayed for afterward, and Ahsoka was exhausted. Still, she kept her shoulders square and her back straight. Her men were counting on her just as much as she was counting on them.

“The holos say the war’s over,” she said offhandedly.

Rex snorted. “If only things were that simple.”

“Commander Tano,” Admiral Yularen cut in, “we’ve been cleared for orbit.”

Ahsoka nodded and took a steadying breath. “Thank you, Admiral. Rex, have the others meet us in Hangar Bay Nine. We’ll take the shuttle.” She paused, and Rex waited. She dropped her voice, her next words for his ears alone. “Go with them and load the cargo, quietly.”

“Yessir." Her commander nodded and turned sharply on his heel. Ahsoka listened to the fading beat of his footsteps as he strode off the bridge, but kept her attention firmly on the planet below.

“I’m sure General Skywalker will be thrilled to see you,” Admiral Yularen said, coming to stand beside her.

“I know. That’s not what I’m worried about, I don’t think.”

“Is it something in the Force?”

Ahsoka mulled over the question. “Maybe,” she said. “The Force hasn’t talked to me much since…” She broke off as she choked up, unable to say the words. “In a couple months. Perhaps the silence is just making me antsy.”

“You’ll figure it out. You lot always do.”

She simply smiled at him before walking off the bridge.

* * *

Ahsoka stopped by her quarters to grab her pack and a couple other things, then made her way to Hangar Bay Nine. She found a couple of her men milling about the bottom of the shuttle gangplank, no doubt waiting for her. As she drew closer, she recognized Rex, Jesse, and Kix. None of them had their buckets on; after all, this was more of a social call than a mission. Padmé was gracious enough to host them at her family home, but a company of troopers was already there, and there was barely enough space as it was.

Hence why Ahsoka was only taking the command staff detached from the 501st down with her.

She smiled as she approached. “Good afternoon, boys. You ready to get out of this tin can for a while?”

“What’s wrong with the tin can? It’s a nice tin can,” Jesse said.

Ahsoka raised a brow. “You’re welcome to stay behind,” she invited. Feeling the amusement of the other men, she fought to keep a straight face.

Jesse barked a laugh. “Not on your life, sir.”

“I didn’t think so,” she said. “Is this everyone?”

“Yes, Commander. Echo and the cargo are inside,” Rex reported. “The ship is prepared and ready to depart.”

“Well, I won’t keep us waiting any longer. Let’s go.”

“After you, sir.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes affectionately and mounted the gangplank into the shuttle that had been her home for several months before she returned to the GAR. The man in the pilot’s seat was just as familiar.

“Fives!” She greeted her old companion enthusiastically, all but launching herself at him when he stood. She didn’t have to worry about appearing professional before these men. They were all members of the 501st old guard, and she’d known most of them since she was fourteen.

The other men shared a chuckle at their brother’s expense, but she didn’t pay much attention. She and Fives traveled together for nearly a year after he uncovered the conspiracy surrounding the chips the clones had implanted in their brains. Taking advantage of her freedom and his presumed death, they quietly spread the word to several other battalions. Upon her return to the GAR and the front lines, they had agreed they couldn't risk word getting out that he still lived.

Luckily, the _Adamant_ was a large ship, with any number of places to hide a wayward trooper.

Fives set her down, and she took a step back. “Happy to be out of solitary?” she asked.

“Words don’t even begin to describe it, So'ika. I was bored out of my goddamn mind, especially knowing you all were off having fun without me. I mean, jetpacks! Really?”

Ahsoka patted his shoulder sympathetically as he sat back down.

“I still think he coulda called himself Sixes and fit in just fine,” Jesse said.

"We couldn't take the risk," Rex said, ever the pragmatic one. “If word got back to the Chancellor, things could have gone much differently.”

Ahsoka nodded solemnly. Of the eighteen thousand men on board the _Adamant_ , only herself, the men present, and Admiral Yularen knew of Fives’s presence. Anakin and Master Obi-Wan knew as well, and it had been a unanimous decision to keep him hidden until the threat dissipated.

“I know, I know. You gave us this lecture when you told us, Commander.”

“If we’re ready to go, we should go.” Echo interrupted the banter from his spot in the copilot’s chair. He flicked a switch. “Strap in.”

Ahsoka didn’t hesitate, although she was slightly distracted as she took her seat. Echo looked much better now than he had just two months ago. Reuniting with the 501st to find Echo, not only alive but with much of his body replaced with cybernetics, had been a shock. Although he wasn't the same man they'd lost at the Citadel, he'd regained much of his strength and confidence in the past months. She knew he'd spent most of his time training with Fives, and she suspected the time with his batchmate had done him a world of good.

What were the odds? Batchmates, either presumed dead at one time or another, only to reunite in the end. Together, they were a pair of dominoes that refused to be knocked down. She looked up and met Rex’s eyes from across the shuttle. When she glanced toward the two in the cockpit, he followed her gaze and nodded.

The holonews proclaimed the war was over. Maybe– just maybe– they’d all finally catch a break. Ahsoka wondered just what a _break_ would look like to these men, who had spent their entire lives fighting. Force, what would it look like to _her?_ That was a question she didn’t have an answer to, either.

Ahsoka listened as Echo gave Theed their credentials and vector approach. Fives locked the ship’s navicomputer on the coordinates Theed sent them in return, and then there was nothing left to do but _wait._

She had never been good at waiting.

Taking a deep breath, she allowed some of her lingering anxiety to leach into the Force. Following that breath, she took another. Repeating the process, she sank into a light meditative trance as she dwelled upon what would come next.

Like all the other times in recent months she had tried to commune with the Force, the Force had nothing to say.

“Shuttle 2713 **,** you are clear for landing. Welcome to Naboo.”

The voice over the comm startled her from her trance. Though the Force itself wouldn’t speak to her, she felt a wave of nervousness from Fives. “It’ll be fine,” she said, pushing reassurance at him.

Fives looked back and gave her a lopsided smile in return. “With all due respect, So'ika, you were actually found ‘not guilty’ for the crime you didn’t commit.”

It was as close to an admission as she’d ever get from one of her men. “I suppose that would make a difference,” she said lightly.

Her words drew chuckles from the men, including Fives, which she decided to take as a victory.

A few short minutes later, she felt the distinctive jolt of landing gear against a docking platform. She stood as Fives and Echo worked through the deactivation sequence. The cabin lights dimmed. Grabbing her cloak out of the small shipboard closet, she pulled the hood up over her montrals and checked that her lightsabers hung securely on her belt. She didn’t expect a threat on Naboo, but the past three years had taught her she could never be too careful.

Rex, as always, was a stalwart presence at her side as the ramp lowered. Raising an arm to shade her eyes, she squinted against the afternoon sunlight. When her vision cleared, the telltale prick of tears remained.

Anakin stood before her.

Well, he paced before her. He was never much good at waiting, either, and she didn’t have to wonder where she got _that_ particular trait from. Dressed not in the Jedi robes Ahsoka had always seen him in, but in Nabooan civvies, she couldn’t help but notice he looked lighter than she’d ever seen him before.

Indeed, when he turned and met her eyes and _grinned_ , he looked as though he’d had the weight of the galaxy lifted from his shoulders.

All things considered, it was probably a pretty apt descriptor.

Even though they'd seen each other only two months ago, Ahsoka felt fourteen again at the sight of her old master. All she wanted was to run down the ramp and across the docking bay, but she kept her composure.

“Snips!”

Anakin had no such reservations. He ran toward her, leaving a small complement of troopers trailing in his wake. She didn't have time to identify who they were. Anakin hoisted her in his arms and spun her around gleefully. The fact she was nearly as tall as he was, not including her montrals, didn't seem to matter.

She laughed and threw her arms around him, hugging him back just as tight. Force, she missed him. The thought of how close she came to losing him, if things hadn't worked out the way they had… she didn't want to entertain the idea. With him in her arms, she could finally lay to rest the niggling fear Maul's words planted within her. It didn't matter. He was here, and she was here, and _that_ was what mattered.

“I missed you too, Skyguy,” she said into his shoulder once he placed her feet back on the ground. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m here now, I promise.”

She'd wanted to drop everything when she received his comm asking her to come to Naboo. Still, she couldn't leave Mandalore when they so desperately needed help rebuilding. The last two weeks had been the longest two weeks of her life.

“I know, Snips,” Anakin said, pulling away at last. He grinned again; that is if he had ever stopped. Ahsoka decided she liked the look of it on him as he waved over her shoulder to the men standing behind her. "Force, Padmé is so excited to see you. I think she's really looking forward to having another woman in the house. It's just been me and the boys around this past month, and I think it's driving her crazy."

Ahsoka laughed as they turned back toward the men Anakin left, her own men following close behind. The others had come closer but remained out of earshot of their reunion. Now, she recognized Commander Appo and Sergeant Kip. "You're all helping take care of the kid, though, right? You can't be driving her too crazy, then."

Anakin shot her a betrayed look. “I wanted to surprise you. Who told you about the kids?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nobody. Come on, Anakin. You _told_ me you had dreams about her dying in childbirth. The jump wasn't that hard to make."

“She’s got you there, sir,” Rex commented dryly as he joined them. He gave Anakin a perfunctory nod. “It’s good to see you again, General.”

Anakin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in a very Obi-Wan-like gesture. “Guys, I’m retiring. Stop calling me ‘General.’”

“Yessir.”

It was then that Ahsoka realized she’d missed something. She looked back at Anakin. “Wait. Kids, plural?”

“The general’s gone and gotten himself a pair of anklebiters?” Fives asked.

“If they’re anything like the general, I can only imagine the trouble _two_ little Skywalkers are gonna get themselves into,” Kix remarked.

Anakin groaned. “Come on, I’m sure you all had a long flight here. Mandalore’s clear across the galaxy. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

Naboo was just as beautiful as Ahsoka remembered. Sunlight illuminated the lush greenery and sparkled off the blue waters visible from Padmé's family estate. The crisp, clean air was a far cry from the stale, recycled air that became standard after so many years aboard starships, and the seventeen-year-old felt nearly at peace for the first time in three years.

“There you are, Ahsoka. Ani said I might find you out here.”

Were it not for her superior Togruta hearing, Ahsoka may have startled. Padmé’s tread was near-silent. As it was, Ahsoka greeted the other woman with a wide smile. The two embraced, and Ahsoka realized she had missed Padmé’s hugs more than she thought. After a long moment, the two turned back to the lake view.

"It's good to see you, Padmé. I'm sorry I didn't come to find you sooner."

Padmé waved her off. “I knew you’d want to take a moment to shower before visiting. Those shipboard showers with the recycled water never quite get rid of all the grime.” She shuddered good-naturedly, and Ahsoka laughed.

“I don’t know how long it had been since I last had a proper shower,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to get out.”

“Well, there are plenty more where that came from,” Padmé assured her. “Does the dress fit okay? It’s one of my old ones.”

When Anakin left her at her rooms, Ahsoka found an ombre blue day dress already laid out on the bed for her. With an empire waist and full off-the-shoulder bell sleeves, it was the most fabric Ahsoka had ever worn at one time in her life. It was also the softest fabric she'd ever worn in her life. She loved it.

She stepped away from the balcony rail and twirled for Padmé, relishing in the swish of fabric around her ankles. At the Jedi Temple, such opulence was discouraged. On the battlefield _,_ it was impractical.

Here, on Naboo, it felt just right. There was no danger here. The Force sat quietly for the first time in years, perhaps for the first time ever. She had even left her lightsabers on the bedside table back in her room, realizing Padmé likely wouldn’t want the weapons around her children.

“It’s wonderful,” she said.

“You’re welcome to keep it. I have more, too, if you’d like.”

“I might take you up on that.”

The two women stood together in silence for several long minutes as they watched the sunlight ripple over the lake. For the first time ever, they had time. Without the Senate or the Order breathing down their necks, they could take the time to simply stand together and breathe. Ahsoka liked Padmé. She'd always looked up to the Naboo senator, her master's ‘friend,’ who was far more than the gentle politician she made herself out to be.

Everything made a little more sense with the revelation that Padmé was not just Anakin’s friend, but his wife. When Anakin finally told her, Ahsoka hadn’t been _surprised_ , per se; after all, she wasn’t blind. She’d long had suspicions that Padmé meant more to Anakin than he let on. She wished Anakin had felt comfortable enough to tell her sooner, but she knew why he hadn’t.

Padmé broke the silence. “The twins went down for a nap just before you arrived. I’d say they were excited to meet you, but… well. They’re two weeks old.”

"I can feel them," Ahsoka said. "I've felt them since I got here." Twin Force signatures, each as bright and familiar as her former master's. They were unmistakably Anakin's children. Even at this age, they were unmistakably Force-sensitive.

“Yes, Ani’s said the same thing. He’s so proud.” Padmé didn’t specify whether he was proud of the twins, of her, or of himself, but she didn’t need to. Ahsoka knew it was all three.

Padmé leaned forward, shifting her weight onto her forearms against the balcony railing. Her silky pink gown rippled around her. Ahsoka turned so her back was to the lake, sitting against the railing as she watched her friend. 

“He’s so good with them,” Padmé said. “He’s really taken to fatherhood like a duck to water, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given how much he cared for you when you were his Padawan.”

“He wasn’t really a father-figure to me,” Ahsoka deflected, attempting to corral the warmth flooding her chest. “He was more of a big brother, I think. He still is.”

Padmé smiled and dismissed her words with a wave. “You know what I mean,” she said. Her smile dropped, and she sighed. She looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she glanced over her shoulder at the entrance to the house.

“He’s in the Grand Hall, talking to Rex and Fives,” Ahsoka assured her, prodding the training bond she still held with her former Master. “I’ll let you know if he comes this way.”

Padmé flashed her a grateful look. She wrung her hands together for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, then spoke. “It’s just– I was worried about him toward the end there, you know? He started pulling away from me. From everyone, really. The war took its toll on all of us, but it was almost as though he was a completely different person. I think… I think it started when you left. I'm not saying it was your fault," she was quick to add. "Of course, it wasn't. But it was hard on him."

Ahsoka nodded. “I didn’t want to leave him. I could _sense_ that something wasn’t right.” Feeling suddenly vulnerable, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what happened. A lot of time meditating about it, even. The Chancellor– Darth Sidious– I’m almost certain he orchestrated the entire thing to pull me away from Anakin.”

“I agree.” Padmé’s voice was soft, but her words were hard. “And it goes back even further than that. Looking back, I think Sidious had been grooming Ani since he was nine years old and fresh off Tatooine. He was biding his time until the right moment, and we almost fell right into his trap.”

“We _did_ fall into his trap,” Ahsoka growled, clenching a fist. “We fought the entire kriffing Clone War. And what did we get for it? Half of the Jedi Order wiped from existence, and millions of sentients robbed of their free will long enough to commit atrocities they’d otherwise rather _die_ before committing!” She embraced the anger, acknowledged it, and let it go. What was done was done.

“Yes,” Padmé agreed readily. “But from what Ani and Obi-Wan have told me of the Sith over the years, I can't bear to think about how much worse it could have been. If Ani had been swayed to Darth Sidious's side like he so obviously planned..."

She shuddered before regathering herself. “My point is, since Sidious’s death, and especially since the birth of our children, I’ve been getting my Ani back. There are still moments I wonder, but… thank you, Ahsoka, for everything you’ve done for him.”

Ahsoka shook her head as she turned back to the lake. “Skyguy’s done a lot for me, too. I would’ve been found guilty if it weren’t for him. I owe him my life.” She paused and shrugged. “I’m starting to understand that’s just how it is with family.”

Padmé laughed. “There’s certainly never a boring moment in this one.” Staring out over the lake, she remarked, “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“I honestly don’t know how you go back to Coruscant so often when it means leaving _this_.”

Padmé straightened. “We do what we must,” she said with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, watching a duck frolic in the water. “We sure do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration of Ahsoka and Padme is by me (Karma)! You can find a larger version on Tumblr, [here](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/post/615216030619435009/padm%C3%A9-leaned-forward-shifting-her-weight-onto-her).
> 
> _Authors' Notes:_
> 
> **From Karma:**
> 
> Star Wars was my first-ever fandom (although, at ten years old, I didn't know the word 'fandom' and my 'fandom' experience consisted only of Ghostly, my parents, and a couple irl friends). When I started writing fic at fourteen, I thought I'd never be able to write for Star Wars because it was Too Big. Now, at twenty-three, here I am.
> 
> This fic is very much a collaboration between me and my sibling, AlwaysGhostly. I'm doing a lot of the writing, but they're writing scenes and paragraphs here and there for each chapter and I couldn't do this without them!
> 
> **From Ghostly:**
> 
> When Karma initially raised the possibility of writing this fic, I got invested real fast. Sure, the war is over, but what now? What about all the characters we've been introduced to, and all the moving parts left unresolved? How can you tell a story about a happy ending without fully fleshing out how you got there? We sat down and figured out exactly where the plot would need to divulge for things to turn out different. This is what could have been.
> 
> Karma is the heart and soul of this operation, and I'm the strategist mapping out a lot of the details and logistics. If Anakin is having a bit of a breakdown, I'm probably involved in the writing, but for the most part Karma is the one breathing life into our ceaseless plotting. I help provide the technical framework, and she builds a compelling story on top of it. You could say that together, we have... unlimited power.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading the labor of our love as much as we're enjoying creating it!


	2. Life Isn't Always Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka learns a little bit more about the state of the galaxy post-Order 66.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be posting every week, but I had this chapter done and I wanted to establish the story a bit more, so here you go!
> 
> Again, the flashback bits are subject to change with the release of s7 as I want to keep this as close to canon as possible, but it won't change the main story itself.
> 
> My Star Wars tumblr is [@theyreondanatooine](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Patch Notes 01.12.21: Fixed time frames, corrected references to Ahsoka from 'general' to 'commander'

  
**15:03:35 (14 months ago)  
12 months before Order 66  
Coruscant; Level 1313  
1100h**

Ahsoka was a resourceful individual. She knew this. She wouldn’t have survived the war for as long as she had – wouldn’t have kept her men alive for as long as she had – if she weren’t. Still, the two weeks after she left the Temple tested her in a way she had never been tested before.

Just how hard could civilian life be?

Harder than she expected, apparently.

She wasn’t a fugitive. Having been pardoned of all the crimes she hadn’t committed, she was a legal immigrant of Coruscant with every right and privilege that bestowed upon her. Despite this, she dodged security cameras and police droids for the first several days after she left the Temple. She felt naked without her lightsabers, and that translated to a caution she found hard to shake.

The first night after she left the Temple, she had cried herself to sleep in a dingy hostel. She woke to a throbbing headache from the pounding bass from the club next door ringing in her montrals while she slept. The dehydration certainly didn’t help. As she left the hostel for a nearby diner, she carefully leached the pain into the Force and took inventory of what she had.

It wasn’t much. She had the clothes she was wearing, her commlink, her identity card, and a credit chip that held her earnings from her two years with the GAR. The last surprised her. She supposed it made sense that they were paid for their service, but she’d never thought about it before. It was a fair sum of money, but it wouldn’t last her long if she had to keep eating out and paying for nights at hostels.

But that could wait. Her first priority had been to buy a pair of blasters. She hadn’t walked unarmed since she constructed her first lightsaber so many years ago, and the war had only reinforced her desire for security.

It was easy enough. The back-alley Nikto weapons dealer she found didn’t even blink at the prospect of selling advanced firearms to a sixteen-year-old. Ahsoka had wrapped her hands around the grips of twin DC-17 blaster pistols, nearly as familiar to her as her lightsabers after so many years of holding Rex’s or Fives’s for some reason or another. She didn’t know how the dealer go this hands on a pair of military-grade weapons. She didn’t ask.

Unfortunately, that was both the first and the last real success she’d had. Although she’d been cleared of any wrongdoing, her image as a wanted criminal had been broadcast throughout Coruscant, and she had yet to find anyone willing to take her on as either an employee or a tenant.

She’d eventually decided she was still too close to the Temple and the Senate. She would have to look farther afield.

So here she was, two weeks out from her departure from the Jedi Temple, taking a cheap speeder bike down into one of Coruscant’s many underworld portals. She was grateful for the fact she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. She wouldn’t want them to see her like this.

Especially since–

“Stang!”

Ahsoka cursed as she felt something blow out on the bike beneath her. The speeder choked and sputtered before giving out completely, and Ahsoka ducked to keep from hitting another vessel as she spun out of control. Kriff it all, she _knew_ the price of the bike was too good to be true!

Traffic around her honked and swerved, but she wasn’t Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan – _former_ Padawan – for nothing. She’d piloted busted up Starfighters, for Force’s sake! A little speeder bike was nothing.

Turning a sharp eye to her surroundings, Ahsoka located a small landing platform down and to her left, several meters ahead. Gritting her teeth, she settled her grip on the bike and _yanked_.

It was a true Anakin Skywalker landing. Ahsoka threw herself from the bike as it impacted the platform, reaching out with the Force even as she rolled to a stop. By some miracle, she kept the bike from skidding off the other end. Safe but for a few scrapes and bruises, she heaved a sigh of relief and fell back against the duracrete.

“That was some entrance. You all right?”

Ahsoka leapt to her feet at the sound of the voice. Whirling around, she found a young man only a few years older than herself staring back at her, his brown eyes occasionally flitting to the busted speeder.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just another day for me, really.” She rolled her eyes as the man looked her over skeptically. “And you are?”

“Nyx,” he said. “Nyx Okami. This is my shop.”

Ahsoka blinked. His shop? With a cursory glance at her surroundings, she recognized the hallmarks of a repair shop. Well, that was convenient. She crossed an arm over her body and pointed the thumb of her other hand over her shoulder at the crashed bike. “I’m Ahsoka, and my speeder’s in need of repairs. Think you can help?”

Nyx blinked. “Y-yeah, sure. I–”

The sound of a barrel clattering to the ground cut him off. Somewhere in the back, someone cursed. “Okami!” a man yelled. “Do you have what you owe me?”

Nyx stiffened before pasting a loose smile on his face and turning to the source of the disturbance. “Hey, Pintu!” He greeted the newcomer with false cheeriness. “I was just coming to see you!”

Ahsoka held back a snort. She’d seen this song and dance before. There was no way Nyx had been planning on going to see Pintu, and there was no way he had what he owed Mr. Ugly. A furry brown humanoid with two protruding eyes and small tentacle-like appendages around his mouth, Pintu was nothing pretty to look at. His two bodyguards were human, but honestly, they weren’t much better.

“I’ve... been helping a new client rebuild her speeder,” Nyx said in honeyed tones. “I was waiting for her to pay me the last few credits she owed me.”

Ahsoka raised a brow. It was only willpower that kept her hands from drifting to the comforting weight of her blasters. This was not a situation she needed to escalate.

Pintu growled. “So, where’s my money?”

She didn’t need the Force to feel the anxiety rolling off Nyx in waves. “I’m a few credits short,” he demurred.

The bodyguards were already moving when Pintu said, “Then this is going to hurt pretty bad, Okami.”

One of the bodyguards grabbed Nyx and held him still while the other punched him in the stomach. Nyx tried to fight back, but it was obvious he didn’t have any training and was severely outmatched. Ahsoka winced as the bodyguard landed another blow.

“Ahsoka!” Nyx wheezed as he called her name. “Go get help, _please._ ”

Ahsoka considered as Pintu chuckled. “I can take care of these guys,” she said. “ _If_ you repair my bike and let me stay here, free of charge.”

“What?” Nyx cried. “Are you crazy?” He yelped as the bodyguard landed a stiff uppercut to his jaw. “Okay, yeah! Fine! Whatever!”

She grinned. Part of her had been itching for a fight, and now she had one. Quickly sizing up the bodyguards, she decided she wouldn’t even need the Force. The hand-to-hand she learned from her troopers would be more than enough to handle these _barves_.

All told, it was a very disappointing fight. It didn’t take much more than a display of competence to chase them off, though Pintu threatened he would be back. Ahsoka sighed, dusted off her hands, and turned to Nyx to find him staring at her with a slack-jawed expression.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nyx said, recovering himself. “I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

* * *

**16:07:26 (Present Day) ** **  
2 months after Order 66  
Naberrie Family Home  
** **2000h**

At seventeen years old, Ahsoka Tano was more familiar with danger than most others her age. She had stared down legions of battle droids. She had held her own in lightsaber combat against Asajj Ventress and General Grievous. She had been captured by pirates. She had challenged bounty hunters. She had been hunted for sport. She had been falsely accused of a terrorist attack and consequently lost the only home she’d ever known.

Sitting in the family room with Rex, Anakin, and Padmé, she realized nothing had ever scared her as much as the two infants held in her friends’ arms.

“Ahsoka, Rex,” Anakin said, cradling the child in his arms, “I’d like you to meet Leia. Padmé has Luke.”

Ahsoka grinned. “They’re beautiful,” she told her former master. They weren’t much to look at, all pale and wrinkled and bald, but they were already bright within the Force.

“Yes. They’re… beautiful?” Rex echoed her words haltingly. She stifled a laugh. Anakin did not.

“It’s okay, Rex. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Sorry, sir. We weren’t exactly trained for these situations. I’m very happy for you both.”

“Thank you,” Padmé said. She smiled and turned to look at Ahsoka before offering Luke to her. “Would you like to hold him?”

Ahsoka panicked. “Uh, yeah. Sure!” She had some experience with the younglings in the crèche at the Temple, but none of them were ever this small or fragile! Still, it wasn’t like she could say _no._

“Relax, Snips.” Anakin chuckled. “I haven’t managed to kriff things up yet, so you’ll be fine. Here, Rex, why don’t you take Leia?”

“Um. Yes, sir.”

“Here,” Padmé said, situating Ahsoka’s arms. “Like this.”

A moment later, Ahsoka had her arms filled with a baby. She hardly dared breathe. Her hands were battle-worn and bloodied, but she marveled at the gentle bundle in her arms. This was _Anakin’s_ child. _Padmé’s_ child. Out of all the death and destruction caused by the war... came life.

It was amazing.

Luke shied away from her even as he gazed up at her with wide blue eyes. It was understandable. She looked nothing like his parents. She reached out with the Force, and she felt him clumsily reach back to her. He settled, and she wondered if he could sense the touch of Anakin from the training bond neither had severed.

“You all right there, sir? You look a little uncomfortable.”

Ahsoka looked up at Rex’s query. “I wasn’t trained for these situations.” Taking in the sight of her commander, whose hands were just as battle-worn and bloodied as her own, she raised a brow. “You look like you’ve been doing this all your life, Rexter.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised. Fives told her once that Rex had always been a bit more Jango, a bit more Mando, than other troopers. Mandalorians valued children more than almost anything else, to the point where parenthood was practically a part of their genetic code.

She’d seen it time and time again during their cleanup on Mandalore after the deposition of Darth Maul. Her men were soldiers, but when the fighting was over, they became some of the most caring individuals she’d ever met. It was unfortunate they didn’t get to show that side of themselves more often.

Rex chuckled and shifted to let Leia grab onto one of his fingers with her tiny hand. “No sir, this is a first for me.”

Ahsoka smiled and turned away.

Padmé shared a look with Anakin. “We’re going to insist on using first names in front of the twins,” she said apologetically. “They’re not going to get a normal childhood, not between me in the Senate and Anakin with the Jedi, but we want to give them what we can.”

Ahsoka blinked. “You didn’t resign from the Order? I thought– With the kids and the marriage and all–”

“Oh believe me, I was going to,” Anakin said, bemused. He sobered immediately. “But… Ahsoka… you may want to sit down for this.”

Even if Ahsoka hadn’t bit back a witty remark about how she _was_ sitting, the lump that lodged itself in her throat would have done so for her. The Force was as silent as it had been for months, but she didn’t need the Force to know that whatever Anakin had to say wouldn’t be good. The empty hole in the Force was as palpable as a missing tooth. She nodded, urging Anakin to continue.

Rex shifted beside her. Luke wriggled in her arms. Padmé laid a comforting hand on Anakin’s shoulder as he leaned forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. He sighed. “Only six Council members survived the Purge.”

What?

Ahsoka was stunned. Two months ago, when she first felt the Force cry out before being silenced, she’d needed to know what happened. She’d forced herself to meditate, to reach out and feel for the missing tooth. She was left with the emotional equivalent of getting sucked out into space without a suit. Since then, she’d done her best to ignore it. She and Fives had done all she could to prevent the tragedy. No matter what had happened, her men needed her. Mandalore needed her.

By those initial estimates, about half of the Jedi Order had fallen. The news about the Council should have come as no surprise.

Luke, likely sensing her distress, began to cry. To her utter relief, Padmé swooped in to take him back.

A thought hit her like a blow to the stomach. She gasped. “Master Obi-Wan?”

“Safe,” Anakin rushed to assure her. Belatedly, she realized Anakin would be much more of a mess right now if Master Obi-Wan hadn’t lived. Even more belatedly, she remembered Cody had been one of the first to be de-chipped and, last she heard, had begun working through the rest of the 212th. She heaved a sigh of relief.

“Who else?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her middle. There hadn’t been any love lost between her and most of the Council the last time she saw them, but it didn’t mean she wanted any of them _dead_.

“Masters Koon, Mundi, Ti, Fisto, and Allie.”

Her heart sang at the knowledge her Finder and her Hunt-Mother lived, but… “Master Windu? Master Yoda? They didn’t–?”

“Master Windu confronted… Darth Sidious… with Master Fisto, Master Tiin, and Master Kolar. Master Fisto was injured early in the fight and forgotten about, which is why he’s the only one who survived. Master Yoda was on Kashyyyk when everything went down. Reports say he made it off-planet, but no one has seen him since.”

Ahsoka sank back into the plush couch. She didn’t miss the way Anakin stumbled over the Sith Lord’s name, nor the way he steadfastly referred to him as Darth Sidious rather than Chancellor Palpatine. She knew the two had been close. Personally, the Chancellor had always given her the heebie-jeebies, a feeling that had only intensified after the incident with Fives.

Rex broke the morbid silence. “So after… what happened… the Jedi Order couldn’t afford to lose any more of its members, could it? That’s why you’re staying.”

Ahsoka looked over. To an untrained eye, Rex’s face would appear studiously blank, but she saw the slight furrow in his brow and his tightened jaw. Carefully, she reached out to lay a hand on his knee. She knew he felt guilty. All the de-chipped troopers did. All the troopers who still had their chips, who had been the ones to shoot… she couldn’t even imagine.

With a sidelong glance, he shot her the barest glimpse of a smile.

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “That’s why I’m staying.”

“But they know?” Ahsoka asked. “About… all this?” She waved her arms, indicating Padmé, the children, and everything else.

“Obi-Wan was here when they were born,” Padmé said.

Anakin cast his wife a fond look. “Yes, he was. And yes, they do. From what Obi-Wan has told me, they argued over it a fair bit, but with the Order in shambles, they’re talking about changing a few things. It’s not official yet, though.”

“But it’s a start,” Ahsoka said.

Perhaps she was wrong to feel a grudging respect rekindling within her. After all, she knew that had the galaxy not just narrowly thwarted disaster, had half the Council and half of the Jedi as a whole not been massacred, the Jedi would never have considered changing their ways.

Maybe now, they could move forward. Maybe now, her former Master could find peace.

She certainly hoped so.

* * *

Ahsoka rose with the sun the next morning. Three long years of short night-cycles meant she found it near impossible to sleep late when given a chance, but the sunlight streaming in through the large windows certainly didn’t help. It illuminated the spot on the bedside rug where she had finally fallen asleep, the bed itself far too soft after three long years of military bunks and sleeping in the field. 

She brought a hand up to shade her eyes as she squinted into the glow. Blinking against the light, she checked the chrono on her wrist unit. It was early, but not too early. The men would be up by now; their internal clocks were even stronger than hers. She hadn’t seen much of them since arriving planetside. Perhaps she’d stop there first.

With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the ‘fresher. When she emerged, she spent way longer than she’d like to admit rifling through the closet Padmé had provided her. Half of it was elegant dresses like the one she wore yesterday, which she didn’t think would be suitable for going to visit the troopers. The other half was more practical athletic wear, but even half the closet contained more clothes than she’d ever seen in one place before!

She eventually settled on a pair of soft brown leggings with a row of cutouts down the side and a dark blue tunic top. A brown belt cinched it around her waist. After a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed her lightsabers and clipped them to her belt. She may not need her lightsabers here at Padmé’s home, but she still felt worlds better with them close at hand.

Pulling her bracers back on, she shoved her feet into her boots and left the bedroom.

Anakin had brought a single company with him to Naboo, as Padmé’s home could hardly fit the entire 501st, even at half strength as it was. Ahsoka found Saber Company in the makeshift mess hall, which was really the grand dining room used to entertain guests. She supposed its purpose hadn’t really changed. The furniture had just been replaced and rearranged to fit as many men as possible.

For a moment, she simply stood and observed the organized chaos. Most of the men were in their blacks. Full kit, like her lightsabers, was unnecessary here, but Ahsoka could tell them apart even without their distinctive paint jobs. There were a few men she didn’t recognize – shinies, who had joined the 501st after she left – but the 501st still felt overwhelmingly like coming _home_.

Judging by the ease in their posture, Rex, Jesse, Kix, Echo, and Fives all felt the same way. Granted, Fives was still basking in the attention that came along with apparently coming back from the dead, and positively eating it up.

After a year spent with only her for company followed by four months in what was essentially isolation aboard the _Adamant_ , she was glad he was back with his brothers. He deserved the attention, even if it _would_ make him insufferable for a bit.

One man looked over and saw her. “Commander on deck!”

Ahsoka waved them off before they could stand. “At ease,” she said. “I’m just here to get breakfast, same as you. Hopefully you boys left some of the good stuff.”

“Don’t worry, we had a hunch you’d show up this morning,” Jesse said. “You’ll find your usual. The kitchen’s that way.”

Ahsoka raised her brows. “The ‘usual’ is rations,” she said dryly.

“What can I say?” Jesse asked, his hands spread before him. “Only the best for our commander.”

With a smile on her face, Ahsoka rolled her eyes and went to fetch breakfast. She thanked Padmé’s kitchen staff profusely as she was handed a plate of sausages and other assorted meats. Someone had obviously informed them of her carnivorous preferences. When she returned to the mess, Echo and Kix scooted apart to give her a seat across from Rex just as they would have aboard the _Adamant_. 

“Morning, boys.” She received a smattering of ‘good morning’s in return. Of the command staff who had come planetside with her, only Fives sat apart, telling what was no doubt an embellished story to a pair of shinies. “What are you all doing sitting over here?” she asked. “I thought you’d be eager to spend time with the brothers you haven’t seen in a while.”

“It’s the same as it is anywhere, sir,” Echo said, his modulated voice as familiar to her now as that of any of his brothers’. “We pick our groups and we stick with them.” He cast a sidelong look at his batchmate and amended, “Mostly.”

“Don’t worry,” Kix cut in. “We did our catching up last night.”

Ahsoka nodded and downed a sausage. “Good. Well, I’m glad to have you all in one place. What’s the word on the street about the war? I’m sure the rest of the 501st has a better idea of what’s happening than we do.” 

Almost instinctively, the others looked to Rex for a response. Rex straightened, as if to give a formal report, but Ahsoka waved him off. It was too early for that.

“Well,” he said, relaxing, “I’m not one for gossip, so I really can’t say for certain...”

“C’mon, Rex,” she cajoled him. “Gossip’s all we really have to go on right now, and I _know_ there’s been plenty of it.”

Rex shook his head and sighed. “It’s not good, sir. The Coruscant Guard was too close to the Chancellor– _Darth Sidious_.” He spat the name like it sat foul on his tongue. “They couldn’t be de-chipped without causing suspicion.”

Ahsoka’s stomach plummeted to her toes. “The Temple.”

Rex nodded. The others gazed down at the table. She hadn’t seen them this grim since… stang, since _Umbara_. “The rest of the 501st was on-planet at the time. They did what they could.”

Ahsoka realized with mounting horror that her comparison to Umbara wasn’t inaccurate. “They would’ve had to shoot at brothers.” The _again_ went unspoken. Feeling sick to her stomach, she pushed her plate away. “Is… is there any good news?”

“The senator is returning to Coruscant in a couple weeks for the Chancellor’s trial,” Jesse said. “She asked Fives to testify before the Senate under every protection Nabooan political asylum and diplomatic immunity what-have-you grants him.”

Ahsoka’s attention drifted to the man in question. As if sensing her gaze, Fives looked up from what seemed to be an intense argument and grinned. Whatever the argument was must not have been important, for a minute later, he was sliding onto the bench between her and Echo.

He threw one arm around Echo’s shoulders and the other around hers. “You’re telling her about the trial?” he asked. “I can’t wait to stick my boot in the crusty corpse of that _demagolka_.”

Fives’s tone was jovial, but his fingers dug into Ahsoka’s shoulder. Ahsoka wrapped her arm around him and rubbed his back soothingly as she sent him a wave of reassurance through the Force. He looked at her, recognizing her touch, and she offered him a smile.

Kix snorted. “I can’t believe they’re even bothering with a trial. What is there to try? The Chancellor was the _darjetii_ working both sides of the war. He’s as guilty as guilty is!”

“They have to try him,” Rex said. “You know how those political types are.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Have they heard anything from the Seppies recently?” Ahsoka asked. “Anakin told me Obi-Wan killed Grievous on Utapau and Count Dooku is in custody on Coruscant.”

Rex shook his head. “It’s been quiet, but I don’t trust it.”

“No,” she agreed. “I don’t, either.” She met Rex’s eyes, and a silent understanding passed between them. If _they_ were the Separatists, even without their top leadership, there’d be no better time to strike than when the Republic was in turmoil like this.

And wasn’t _that_ a pleasant thought with which to start the day?

* * *

Naboo was nice, Rex had decided.

It was almost _too_ nice.

The peaceful Naboo stood in stark contrast to the war-torn Mandalore where he’d just spent the better part of two months. Most of that time was spent rebuilding, but even the rebuilding efforts couldn’t save the inhospitable land outside Mandalore’s domed cities. Naboo was… so _alive._ It wasn’t as though Naboo had escaped the war untouched, but despite how outspoken and pivotal as its senator had been, it was far better off than most systems.

It almost made him uncomfortable. They hadn’t been on-planet for a full cycle yet, and already he was getting antsy. He wasn’t ungrateful for the break, but that didn’t change the fact he didn’t know what to do with himself.

For now, slamming Fives down onto the makeshift sparring mats out in the courtyard of Senator Amidala’s home would have to do.

“Fine! I yield!” Fives grumbled, slapping his hand against the mat. “Get off.”

Rex let go, and the gathered crowd erupted into cheers. He helped Fives to his feet, and the two made their way to the edge of the impromptu arena. There, Ahsoka sat on one of the crates they’d dragged out, deep in conversation with Captain Skye. The man was one of the handful who had been promoted after half of the 501st had been detached.

Ahsoka looked up as they approached. “Not yet, huh?”

Fives shook his head. “Not yet. One day, though. I swear.”

Rex chuckled. “You keep telling yourself that, _vod_.”

Fives turned to Skye. “The only one in the 501st who can ever beat Rex in a spar is Ahsoka, here. Have you seen it?”

“Once, sir,” Skye said. “It was very impressive.”

Although Fives wasn’t even technically a member of the GAR anymore than Ahsoka was, Rex had noticed most of Saber Company addressed him with the honorific as they did her. It wasn’t really a surprise. Fives had been legendary throughout the 501st, even after his supposed death. Rex held a great deal of respect for the man himself. Of his thousands of brothers, Fives was one of the handful he considered truly to be his friends. Perhaps his own close association with Skywalker and subsequent fame had contributed to Fives’s, but he had seen Fives earn it for himself time and time again.

Not for the first time, a wave of gratitude washed over him. He still had his best man by his side, and it was all thanks to the woman sitting before him.

Ahsoka, entirely unaware of Rex’s musings, preened beneath Skye’s compliment. “Of course it was,” she said airily. She then nodded toward the ring, where Mitts and Kip were taking their places. “Do you wanna go next, Skye?”

Skye laughed and shook his head. “If you can beat Commander Rex, sir, I don’t think I’ll have a snowball’s chance on Mustafar.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms in a pout. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m a soldier, sir. We’re not meant to be fun.”

“Fives is fun.” She tilted her head. “Rex is not fun, though. You’re right.”

Even if she hadn’t grinned at him, Rex would’ve known she was joking. He didn’t bother arguing. He’d let her have this one.

She said, “See?”

On second thought... “Okay. Hang on a minute-”

“Rex. Ahsoka. There you are.”

Rex broke off at the sound of his general’s– his former general’s– voice. He snapped to attention, aware of Fives and Skye doing the same.

Anakin sighed. “At ease, men. You don’t need to stand on ceremony here.”

“Yes sir,” Rex said. Fives and Skye echoed him. Then, “Did you need something, sir?” Appo stood beside General Skywalker, but like any good soldier, his face gave nothing away.

Skywalker glanced between him, Ahsoka, Fives, and Skye, then looked to the gathering crowd of troopers who were pretending they weren’t listening. Badly. Rex would–

No, Rex would not have words with them later. That was Captain Skye’s job, and he would not take it from the man.

“Come with me,” Skywalker said. “You too, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka looked up at Rex with a question in her eyes. _Do you know what this is about?_

Rex gave her a small shrug. _No idea. You?_

She stared into Skywalker’s back, a pensive look on her face. After a long moment, she nodded.

Rex didn’t have the Force to guide him, but as he thought back on everything that had happened since they received Skywalker’s summons two weeks ago, things began to click into place. He’d only just put it together when Skywalker ushered them into an office space that was way too neat to have been his for very long.

“This is about the fact you’re retiring, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asked. There was no malice or accusation in her voice, but the words were pointed all the same.

Skywalker, casually sitting against the edge of the desk, blinked. “Um. Yeah, Snips. I was planning to ease into it a little, but… yeah. With Padmé and the twins, I can’t continue leading the 501st. I have to be here with them, especially with Padmé going back to the Senate.”

Ahsoka shifted her weight and crossed her arms. “You want me to take command,” she said. “Of the 501st. Officially.”

“The holonews is saying the war’s over, but there’s still a lot of cleanup work we need to do,” Skywalker explained. “Obi-Wan says they’re already getting reports of border skirmishes, and the Separatists are buckling down on worlds where they already have a presence. It’s not over. Not yet.”

“Tell me something I didn’t already know,” Ahsoka grumbled.

Rex recalled having this exact conversation with her. They’d both been up late one night on the _Adamant_ shortly after the execution of Order 66, Ahsoka haunted by the absence she said she felt in the Force and Rex equally haunted by the thought of what had happened to his brothers. Over cups of caf that had turned into glasses of something stronger by the time they finally turned in, they’d discussed the uncertain future of the galaxy.

With a sigh, Ahsoka straightened and uncrossed her arms. “I don’t need to rejoin the Order, do I? I’ve been doing just fine as I am.”

Skywalker shook his head. “No, you won’t need to rejoin the Order, although they _will_ probably invite you back again, after… everything. You… you don’t need to accept.”

Ahsoka nodded. She glanced in Rex’s direction, then over at Appo. “Who will be my commander?”

Rex would not be disappointed if Appo kept command of the 501st. He would not. In all respects, Appo _should_ keep command of the 501st. Still…

No. There was no ‘still.’ He would do his duty.

“As the general of the 501st, that will be for you to decide,” Skywalker said.

“There’s no need to worry, sir,” Appo said, stepping forward. “I’ve already decided to step down. Commander Rex is the more experienced commander, and – quite frankly, sir – I will appreciate the respite.”

Rex refused to acknowledge the wave of relief that settled over him.

Skywalker nodded. “Right, that’s settled then. Padmé will be returning to Coruscant in two weeks for Darth Sidious’s trial, as I’m sure Fives told you. I’ll be going along with Saber Company to babysit. If the 332nd joins us, we can transfer command of the whole 501st to you and Rex. Do you have any questions?”

Ahsoka shook her head.

“Just one thing, sir,” Rex said.

“Yes, Rex?”

“It’s not babysitting if they’re your own children.”

Skywalker threw his head back and laughed. “Of course, Rex. You’re right, as always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a translations:
> 
> _Demagolka_ \- someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche
> 
>  _darjetii_ \- Sith
> 
>  _vod_ \- brother/sibling


	3. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone currently residing at the Naberrie house experiences some downtime before their departure to Coruscant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support! Ghostly and I are having a blast writing this fic, but it makes us really happy that you all like it too.
> 
> That said, I've started a tag on my tumblr for _Always In Motion_ content, including both original content from us and posts that remind us of this fic. [Check it out!](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/tagged/aimitf)
> 
> \- Karma

** 15:04:23 (13 months ago) ** **  
11 months before Order 66  
Coruscant; Level 1313  
2100h**

“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka fumbled with the power converter beneath the speeder she was working on and cursed. “Give me a minute!” she yelled, then winced as the sound bounced off the underside of the speeder and back into her montrals.

_A pinch here… a quick twist there…_

The part clicked into place, and she grinned. “Got it!”

When she wheeled out from under the speeder, she found herself staring straight up at Nyx. She flushed beneath his scrutiny. “What?”

“It’s late,” Nyx said. “What are you still doing out here?”

“Is it?” Ahsoka asked, standing. She automatically checked her wrist chrono only to remember she’d taken it off so it wouldn’t get in her way. “I didn’t realize.”

“You never realize,” Nyx said with fond exasperation. “I know you said you’d work in exchange for staying here, but you don’t need to work _this_ much.”

Ahsoka pushed her goggles up to her forehead and shrugged. “I enjoy it.”

She did enjoy it. It also helped her keep her mind on the _now_ rather than the past. She couldn’t dwell on everything she’d lost when she was elbows-deep in servomotors and engine grease. She hadn’t meditated since she left the Temple – was she even still allowed to? – but working on the speederbikes that came through Nyx's shop was the second-best thing.

“Did you have something for me?” she asked, peeling off her gloves.

“Oh, yeah. Your commlink’s blinking.”

Ahsoka's heart leapt. "Blinking?" she asked, unable to keep the hopeful note from her tone. Her lekku twitched with excitement. She had finally messaged her friends a couple weeks back, once she'd established herself at Nyx's shop. Since then, she'd been in near-constant contact with both Anakin and Rex. Due to conflicting schedules and unsynchronized day-cycles, they usually talked using pre-recorded holomessages and text messages through their datapads.

When she picked up her commlink at the end of the day, she usually found the comforting glow of a waiting holomessage. If the commlink was blinking, though… that was a live call!

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she demanded, tossing her gloves and goggles onto a workbench. “How long has it been blinking?”

“I told you as soon as I could,” Nyx protested. “I don’t know how long it was blinking before I saw it!”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “Did you answer it?”

“Of course not. I know you don’t like me looking through your stuff.”

She sighed. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Go take the call,” Nyx said. “We still on for later?”

“Of course,” Ahsoka replied over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

She didn’t bother to clean up before snatching her still-blinking commlink off the kitchen counter where she’d left it that morning. Hastening to the storage room that had been converted into her bedroom, she locked the door behind her and grabbed her holodisk so she could take the call.

The figure coalesced before her, and she grinned. “Rexster!”

Rex’s holo grinned back at her. “Hey, Little’un. Looks like you’ve had a hard day’s work. You’ve got a little something.” He gestured to a spot on his cheek. When Ahsoka swiped at the spot on herself, her hand came away with a dark smear of grease.

She shrugged. “Just one of the hazards of working in an engine shop,” she said, wiping the smear on the leg of her coveralls. “But that’s not important. You called! What’s up?”

Rex cleared his throat. “Just had some downtime between missions,” he said. “I don’t have long before someone wonders where I am, though.”

“That’s okay,” Ahsoka said, taking a seat at her small desk. “Nyx and I are going out later, anyway.”

Rex raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you’re ‘going out’ later, are you?”

Ahsoka flushed, the tips of her lekku curling slightly in discomfort. “It’s not like that,” she protested. “I mean, it is, but we’re not– We’ve been doing vigilante work.” Open mouth. Insert foot. Unfortunately, she’d obtained all her social graces from Anakin and none from Master Obi-Wan.

Rex heaved a sigh. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting your heart broken again.”

Ahsoka winced at the ‘again.’ Did he have to be so blunt? She was still incredibly embarrassed about the whole incident on Onderon. She had hoped Anakin was the only one who noticed, but of course, she wasn't so lucky. The fact that _Rex_ had noticed as well… something inside her squirmed at the thought.

“Don’t worry, I will be,” she assured him. “Nyx is nice and all, but… I’m probably gonna be the one to break _his_ heart.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Rex replied diplomatically. Ahsoka laughed. Hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, and he was still looking out for her as he had since that first battle on Christophsis.

“Speaking of happy… How’s Anakin? Dare I ask?”

Rex sighed. “It might be better if you didn’t,” he said. “He’s still General Skywalker, but he’s been taking more risks lately. It’s like he’s taking out his frustration at what happened on the clankers.”

“I suppose that’s not the worst way he could be handling things,” Ahsoka said begrudgingly. “Still… I don’t like it.”

“We don’t either, sir. It’s making some of the boys uneasy.”

“Ahsoka,” she corrected. “I’m not military anymore.”

“With all due respect, Ahsoka. You’ll always be our commander.”

Ahsoka smiled. “That’s sweet, Rex. Thank you. I miss you all, too.” She paused. “Have you tried talking to Anakin?”

“We’ve tried,” Rex said, a touch of exasperation in this tone. “He just brushes us off, says it’s nothing we need to worry about. He hasn’t ordered us to drop it, but he won’t tell us anything.”

Ahsoka pursed her lips. “That sounds exactly like something we need to worry about. I’ll ask him about it the next time I talk to him.”

“How are you so sure he’ll talk to you?”

She grinned. “I have my ways,” she said. “I promise. Now. Aside from Anakin, how are things?”

Despite the fact they both had other things to attend to, they ended up talking for nearly a standard hour. The 501st was well. They were still at Ringo Vinda, where they had returned after Anakin and Ahsoka had been called away to investigate the Temple bombing. They’d run a few resupply missions to the surface, but they were gearing up for a major assault soon.

Even in the pale blue holo, Ahsoka thought she could see pronounced shadows beneath Rex’s eyes. They’d always been there, but they looked darker than she remembered. She wondered, not for the first time, if her choice to leave had affected her men more than they let on.

Unable to stay her tongue, she cut him off mid-sentence. “Rex?”

“Yes, Ahsoka?”

“You’ll– You’ll let me know if something happens, right? You won’t keep me in the dark, even if it’s something you think I won’t want to hear?” Anakin would try to keep her safe, she knew. She didn’t want that from Rex. She might not be a Jedi _or_ GAR anymore, but the 501st wasn’t just her battalion. They were _family_.

Rex nodded. “I promise,” he said. “And if that boy hurts you and you need us to teach him a lesson, you let _us_ know.”

She really didn’t think that would be necessary, but… “Sure, Rex. I promise.”

* * *

****

** 16:07:32 (Present Day)  ** **  
2 months after Order 66  
Naberrie Family Home  
** **1000h**

Padmé loved her children. Luke and Leia were her pride and joy, the twin lights in her life, reminders that out of the ashes of war came something beautiful. She wouldn’t trade them for Naboo itself. She had been and still was willing to give up her career for them.

But she hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in three weeks.

She yawned loudly and massaged her temples, her elbows planted on her desk. Before her lay a pile of flimsiplast and datapads that had, at one point, been organized. She was working on reorganizing them into something more useful. At the moment, she was at that stage where things got messier before they got better.

Was that a metaphor for her life at the moment? She was too tired to dwell on the thought.

Dust motes danced in the late morning sunlight illuminating her desk. With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself upright and picked up the datapad she’d been studying before she was overcome with a wave of exhaustion. The words fuzzed before her, but she forced herself to focus. This was important.

This particular datapad held Chancellor Palpatine’s senatorial financial records.

Despite their protests at her insistence on returning to work so soon, Padmé's colleagues had forwarded to her the records released to the Senate after the Chancellor's demise. The prosecution and the defense were being developed by teams of career lawyers, but the senators were given the option to review the case material themselves.

The thought of anyone defending the Chancellor curdled her stomach, but democracy was democracy, and due process was due process. To believe otherwise would be to betray the morals on which she'd founded her career.

Chancellor Palpatine was initially the senator from Naboo. It was Padmé herself who gave him a leg up into power thirteen years ago. For that reason alone, she owed herself, her planet, and her galaxy a thorough examination of the situation.

The datapads all held information forwarded from Coruscant about Palpatine’s dealings since he was elected as the Naboo senator. The flimsis had been obtained from the Naboo Government Archives. They stretched back to the very beginning of his political career.

At first glance, it was all clean. _Too_ clean. After looking over it as many times as she had, she had begun to see patterns she hadn’t seen before. 

Money that never made it to its intended destination.

Separatist intel that he, by all means, should not have been able to obtain.

Orders that did the GAR more harm than good.

It was exhausting.

“Hey, Angel.” Padmé looked up at the sound of her husband’s voice. “I brought you some of that tea you like.”

Dropping the datapad back on the desk, she smiled and tilted her head up to receive Anakin’s kiss. “You’re a lifesaver, Ani,” she said, taking the teacup from his hands before he could place it before her.

"You know, the boys offered to crack one of their caffeine pills in there for you," Anakin said offhandedly. He dragged one of the other chairs in her office closer so he could sit beside her. "Let me know if I should take them up on it next time."

Padmé chuckled mid-sip. She could almost feel the stress melt away as the spiced worba root tea hit her tongue. Worba root was native only to Naboo, and Padmé had craved it throughout her pregnancy. “I don’t think that would be good for the children,” she said with only a touch of regret.

She paused. “Speaking of–”

“Relax. Threepio’s with them. And Kix and Jesse,” Anakin hastened to add at her dubious look. Padmé loved Anakin’s protocol droid, but she didn’t exactly trust him to handle the twins alone. “Besides,” he continued, tapping his temple, “I can always feel them up here. Ahsoka can, too. If something is wrong, we’ll know immediately.”

Padmé sighed. “Thank the lakes for small fish.”

Anakin cast his gaze over the cluttered desk. “Dare I ask how it’s going?”

"You can ask," Padmé grumbled, setting her teacup aside. "Once you really dive into it, it's pretty damning, but the man was good at hiding his tracks. I'm sure there's more that I'm missing. Hopefully, the law team catches it."

“I still can’t believe they’re holding a trial,” Anakin said with a huff. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “What’s the point? They’re just wasting time they could be spending talking about more important things!”

“It’s about setting precedent.” Padmé said the words almost by rote; this was not the first time she and Anakin had entertained this conversation. “He needs to be seen as guilty in the eyes of the law, and that means there needs to be a fair trial. I think they’re trying to implicate Mas Amedda in conspiracy.”

Anakin snorted. “Since when does the Senate care about a ‘fair trial?’ They threw Ahsoka to the executioner for a crime she didn’t commit, but sure, the _Sith lord_ gets a ‘fair trial!’”

His volume rose with each word until he was all but yelling. Padmé schooled her features. _Since it’s not being strongarmed by said Sith lord,_ she wanted to say, but instead, all she said was "Ani…"

Anakin sagged like a puppet with its strings cut. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I just–” He lapsed into silence. Burying his face in his hands, he simply shook his head.

“He was your friend,” Padmé said, empathetic. “I thought he was my friend, too.”

“I should’ve seen it sooner,” Anakin said, his words muffled in his hands.

“You couldn’t have. Nobody thinks otherwise.”

“Yes! I could have!” Anakin looked up, his eyes wide with his outburst.

“And what would you have done?” Padmé demanded. “Anakin, from what you’ve told me, things would have worked out exactly the same. Probably worse, because fewer clones would have been de-chipped.”

Anakin fell silent again. Padmé waited, recognizing the look on his face that meant he had more to say. When he spoke, she almost didn’t hear him.

“I almost helped him.”

_He almost_ – “What?”

“I said I almost helped him!”

When he looked up and met her gaze squarely, Padmé saw in his eyes anguish she hadn't seen in him since immediately after his mother died. She sat frozen in her chair. Was this what he'd been having nightmares about, ever since he returned from the Chancellor's office that evening? She'd tried to ask, tried to get him to talk, but he'd brushed her off at every turn.

Until now.

“Ani?”

“Despite knowing he was the Sith lord, despite– despite _knowing_ he was manipulating me, when Master Windu attacked, I– I almost–”

Padmé stood and pulled her husband into her, allowing him to soak her day dress with his tears. She stroked his hair as he cried it out. It was only when he began to pull away from her that she let him go.

“Padmé, how can you–? After I–?”

“Because you didn’t,” she said, clasping his hands in hers. “If you had, we wouldn’t be here right now. You were _stronger_ than he was. He did everything in his power to bring you over to his side, and you refused. _That’s_ the man I fell in love with. _That’s_ the father of my children. Why wouldn’t I?”

Without releasing her grip, she sat back in her chair. “Anakin, if all this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. He was the senator for Naboo. _I_ was the one who got him elected to the Chancellorship. You were there.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Anakin argued weakly. “He was working with the _sleemos_ in the Trade Federation. He manipulated you.”

“Just as he did you,” Padmé said. “Except I fell for it– hook, line, and sinker.”

With a watery smile, Anakin squeezed her hands briefly before he stood. “I’ll let you get back to it,” he said. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Padmé knew he wasn’t okay. She knew he wouldn’t be for a while, but maybe… maybe they were on the right path. Sparing a glance at the abandoned pile of flimsiplast and datapads, she shook her head and stood.

“This can wait,” she said. “It’s a beautiful morning. It would be a shame to let it all go to waste. Would you care to join me for a walk on the lakefront, Master Jedi?”

That earned her a genuine smile. “I would like nothing more, my lady.”

* * *

Echo smiled and waved at General Skywalker and Senator Amidala as they passed by the open door of the speeder bay where he had set up shop. He relished in the feel of the gentle late-summer breeze. The soft susurrus of the leaves outside was an acceptable substitute for the muted rumble of the _Adamant_ ’s engines.

It was a gorgeous morning, but the dull ache in his ports told him the weather would take a turn for the worse later.

Echo smiled at the retreating backs of the general and the senator. Taking a deep breath, he removed the final screw from the access panel in his right arm. He wiggled his mechanical fingers, watching the synthetic tendons flex within. It was weird. It would always _be_ weird, but it was also fascinating. At least now he had fingers to wiggle. The Techno Union hadn’t even given him those.

General Skywalker had.

Echo hadn’t been back with the 501st for more than a standard week after Anaxes before Skywalker found him in the mess hall and offered to take a look at his prosthetics.

“Ahsoka says I need a project,” Anakin had said. “She and your… brother… are thrilled you’re alive. They wish they could talk to you personally, but the circumstances aren’t great. You understand.”

He’d understood. Rex was quick to tell him about Fives after his rescue, and while he had wished he could contact his _ori’vod_ , he could be patient. If Fives and Ahsoka were together, they’d find their way back.

Echo had spent hours with General Skywalker alternating between the med bay and the workshop. By the end of it, he had new prosthetics that looked and felt far more natural than whatever it was the Techno Union had given him. Skywalker hadn't been able to do much for his internal cybernetics. Instead, he'd had a specialist from the Grand Republic Medical Facility on Coruscant come out to take a look during a spell of downtime. Echo still wasn't sure what exactly she did, but it helped.

Between Skywalker's efforts and those of the Grand Medical specialist, his cybernetics now integrated far more smoothly with his organics. He no longer felt clunky, and his armor fit him almost as well as it had before. He'd grown his hair out a little longer than was regulation to cover the rivets in his skull and gained some weight back. If it weren't for the two rivets at his hairline and the small audio processor in place of his left ear, one could hardly tell he was any different from the rest of his brothers.

It meant the shinies didn’t stare. As much.

The cybernetics had taken some getting used to. Still, Echo had found he enjoyed tinkering with his prosthetics and conducting general maintenance. It was calm and methodical work, and it filled downtime. He hadn't felt the same enjoyment in reading the regulation manuals he once had. There wasn't much point, considering he'd downloaded them straight to his memory bank and could recite them word for word.

Echo carefully brushed dust and grit out of the servos in his arm. There wasn’t much to be done. He’d already repaired the damage from the fighting on Mandalore and cleaned out the grime from the following restoration effort. Life on Naboo was hardly detrimental, although he _had_ stayed onshore while his brothers went swimming in the lake the day before.

He was pretty sure he'd just sink and wasn't particularly inclined to confirm his suspicions.

Making one last adjustment, Echo replaced the access panel. He’d just tightened the last screw when he heard a lazy knock at the door where the speeder bay attached to the house.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Fives said. “I got held up. Mitts and Skye were playing an intense game of holochess, and I had to see who won."

Echo tossed him a wrench. Fives caught it one-handed. “Who won?”

“Mitts,” Fives grumbled, picking up one of Echo’s legs before taking a seat next to him.

Echo laughed. “How much money did you bet on Skye?”

Fives sighed. “I owe Jesse ten credits. But I think he owes me five, so I’ll give him five and call it even.”

Echo shook his head and turned back to his arm. Once upon a time, he would've told Fives there was a regulation against betting. At this point, he'd repeated that regulation so many times he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

Instead, he folded his hand back at an unnatural angle and extended the socket arm tucked neatly into the base of his wrist. As grateful as he was to have a functioning hand again, the socket arm was a valuable asset when paired with the central processing unit the Techno Union had installed in his brain. Skywalker had asked him if he wanted to keep it. Echo hadn’t hesitated with his reply.

Fives looked up, wrists deep in the innards of Echo’s leg. “That thing’s still weird.”

Echo grinned and jabbed it at his brother's face. Fives batted it away. " _This thing_ is what won us the Battle of Anaxes,” Echo said, not for the first time. “Have a little respect.”

“Yeah, so it’s useful! Doesn’t mean it’s not _weird_ ,” Fives insisted. “You could have jousting matches with that astromech the general and Ahsoka are so fond of. Hey, actually...” He trailed off thoughtfully.

“I’m pretty sure the astromech would win," Echo said dryly, shutting down whatever idea Fives had percolating in his head. He didn't know the droid well – most of the clones didn't save for Rex – but its reputation preceded it. 

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Come on, I’m loads of fun.”

“Echo. You read the _reg manuals_ during downtime.”

“Not anymore, I don’t,” Echo said, tapping his temple. “I have ‘em all right here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Enhanced droid memory, I know.”

Echo was grateful for his banter with Fives. Despite best efforts, he had been incredibly self-conscious about his appearance and cybernetics upon his return to the 501st. When his brothers weren't staring, it was only because they were trying to ignore… Well, everything. The old guard was better about it, but even Rex had checked in with him before assigning him to missions.

When Fives had shown up with Ahsoka on the _Adamant_ nearly three months after Echo’s rescue, he’d fallen right back into giving Echo shit. That is, after he threatened to strangle those who had done this to his brother with his own two hands. It had gone a long way toward making everything feel normal again.

_Normal_. 

What even was ‘normal’? It certainly wasn’t the past week spent on idyllic Naboo, the war nothing but a distant concern. Still, Echo had his _ori’vod_ beside him, and everything else was secondary. 

Satisfied that everything was in order, he retracted the socket arm and snapped his hand back into place. That done, he stared out the open bay door and got lost in thought. 

“Echo?”

“Ah. It’s nothing,” he said, pulling himself back into the present. “Nothing important, at least. I was just wondering what’s going to happen once this is all over.”

“You think we’ll live that long?” Fives asked.

A new voice cut Echo off from whatever he’d been about to say. “I’d like to think the chances are pretty good.”

Echo looked up to see Ahsoka standing before them, dressed not in the casual tank top and leggings she’d worn for the past week, but in a pale yellow dress that fell to her knees and belted around the waist. Her lightsabers hung in their usual places.

“So'ika!” Fives cried. “You think so?”

Ahsoka shrugged and pulled up a crate so she could sit with them. “I mean, officially, you’ve both already died. And yet, here you are. If that’s not the Force trying to tell you something, I don’t know what is.”

“The general has a point there,” Echo said to his brother. “I think.” 

Despite having worked closely with the Jedi for almost three years, the Force still baffled him. All that banthashit about ‘feeling’ and ‘just knowing’ didn’t sit well with him. It might work for the Jedi, but he wasn’t about to trust something he couldn’t read about in a manual.

“Thanks, Echo.”

"Sure," Fives conceded. "So, 'Soka, what brings you all the way out here on this fine morning?”

“I was looking for you, actually,” she said. “I realized last night that I still haven’t gotten a gift for the twins _or_ for Anakin and Padmé. That’s a thing you’re supposed to do when someone has a baby, right?”

Echo and Fives traded a glance and shrugged.

Ahsoka laughed. “Yeah, I don’t know either. Anyway, I was wondering if you’d wanna come into town with me later to help me find something.”

Fives was shaking his head before she finished her sentence. “Sorry, I’m busy,” he said. “You should ask Rex, I think he’s free.”

Echo couldn’t quite read the look on Fives’s face, but some sort of unspoken communication passed between him and the general. It was the kind of communication that belied familiarity; sometimes, Echo forgot Fives and Ahsoka spent almost an entire year together before meeting the 501st on the _Adamant._ In moments like these, however, it was plain to see that they were as close as any two _vod’e_.

Eventually, Ahsoka sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask Rex. Thanks, Fives.”

Echo watched her curiously as she left. “What was that about? You’re not busy later. None of us are.”

“Oh, nothing,” Fives said airily.

Echo shook his head and switched to working on his other arm. It wasn’t ‘nothing,’ but it didn’t matter. Fives had been keeping a secret from him since they reunited months ago, and Echo knew his brother would tell him in due time.

“I should’ve told her the weather’s gonna turn,” he realized.

“Nah,” Fives said after a moment’s consideration. “They’ll figure it out.”

* * *

To the citizens of Naboo, the bustling market in the small village center near the Naberrie family home was nothing to write home about. It was where they did their shopping. It was where they met friends. It was where they caught up on the latest gossip. While the hubbub of the market days was a spot of excitement in the citizens' otherwise mundane lives, to Ahsoka, it was nothing short of surreal.

This wasn't the first time Ahsoka had visited the town. It wasn't even the second or the third. She'd visited once with Padme, another time with Anakin, and had accompanied a few of the boys from Saber Company to the local cantina just a couple nights back. Still, walking next to her commander, both of them out of uniform, she felt incredibly out of place.

The thin fabric of her yellow dress swished at her knees, occasionally catching in the stiff breeze to expose the brown thigh-length leggings she wore beneath. The weight of her lightsabers on her belt was comforting, but she had to resist the urge to resettle the hem of her dress every time it moved. Despite having been on Naboo for a week, she still wasn't quite used to wearing civvies.

She cast a sideways glance at Rex. If he was having a similar issue, it didn’t show. Why would it show, when he wore a simple jacket, shirt, and pants?

Perhaps she shouldn’t have worn the dress.

Walking through the village with Rex at her side, Ahsoka found she couldn’t relax. It was too reminiscent of the campaign on Mandalore, both the scouting and the cleanup. It was reminiscent of Ryloth, of Onderon, of dozens of other campaigns over the years that blended together into obscurity. She felt as though they were on yet another mission, and danger could be around any corner.

But this wasn’t Mandalore, or Ryloth, or Onderon. This was Naboo, and she and Rex were simply two civilians at the market.

They walked the length of the market in silence, taking in the sights and sounds and smells. R2-D2 trundled along behind them. He’d invited himself on their excursion as they were leaving Padme’s home, citing the fact C-3PO was driving him crazy. Ahsoka was happy to have him along. He hadn’t been with them on Mandalore.

Once they got a sense of the market, they paused in a quiet alcove.

“So… What is it we’re looking for, again?” Rex asked, scanning the crowd.

Ahsoka sighed. "I want to get a gift for Anakin and Padme or the twins, but I don't actually know what I'm looking for. What does one get for new parents? What does one get for newborns?"

Rex shifted on his feet, a sheepish expression crossing his face. “I, uh. Wouldn’t know, sir.”

_Ahsoka_ , she wanted to correct. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d called her by name since she took command of the 332nd. They’d reached an easygoing friendship during the year after she left the Temple, but it had faded back into professionalism when they met again aboard the _Adamant_. She missed it.

She didn’t correct him. Instead, she shrugged and crossed her arms. “That’s pretty much what Fives and Echo said.”

Rex tore his gaze away from the market, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure you want a clone’s help on this? It pains me to admit it, but Artoo probably knows more than I do.”

Ahsoka bit back several responses, eventually settling on: “You’re better company.”

Artoo beeped indignantly.

“See?” she said with a grin. She laughed and patted Artoo’s dome reassuringly, at which he emitted a placated whine.

“I see,” Rex said, albeit a touch dubiously.

“Well, Artooie? Do you have any ideas?” Ahsoka couldn’t remember the last time she used her old nickname for the astromech. Somewhere amidst the middle of the war, with the weight of the galaxy pressing down upon her shoulders, she’d just… stopped. It just hadn’t felt right.

It did now.

Artoo whirred happily and gave an affirmative trill. Commanding them to follow, he trundled off into the center of the market square. Exchanging a glance, Ahsoka and Rex trailed after him.

As they worked their way through the square, stopping at the stalls Artoo pointed out, Ahsoka couldn't keep her gaze from drifting up to Rex's profile. He barely looked like a clone, she realized, between his meticulously dyed blond hair and his civvies. She didn't think there had ever been a strong GAR presence on Naboo, and most Republic propaganda only showed the troopers in full kit. The Naboo townspeople likely wouldn't recognize him as a clone if it weren't for the fact it was there were several currently residing at the Naberrie house.

They couldn’t see the twin DC-17s holstered beneath his leather jacket.

Ahsoka looked away before he could catch her staring. Again. Rex had always been the most attractive clone she knew, despite them all having identical faces. At fourteen, she'd admitted it readily when some of her younger friends had asked questions about what it was like on the front lines. At fifteen, her friends no longer asked, but she would have felt uncomfortable objectifying one of her good friends. Fives had asked her when she was sixteen, both of them bored out of their minds on a long-haul space flight between battalions. Getting her to answer then had been like pulling teeth. 

She was seventeen now, and she could once again admit it readily… to herself.

Only Fives knew Ahsoka had been nervous not only about returning to the GAR but about seeing Rex again for the first time in nearly a year. Knowing Fives and Rex were close, and knowing Fives had a tendency to meddle, she had sworn him to secrecy twice. Thankfully, Mandalore had provided its own distraction, and she had quickly fallen back into a comfortable routine that made things simple.

With that comfortable routine stripped away upon their arrival at Naboo, those nerves had returned. She wished they hadn’t. She didn’t _need_ this. She didn’t even really _want_ it.

But here she was.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, something at the next table over catching her eye. “Those are cute!”

“You like the tooka dolls, miss? I made these ones myself,” the shopkeeper said proudly. She was young, perhaps a year or two younger than Ahsoka. A woman Ahsoka assumed to be her mother stood at the other end of the table, talking to a couple.

“They’re very nice,” Ahsoka said, picking one up to examine it. Now that she looked closer, she could see that it did resemble a tooka if one looked closely. She didn't have the fondest opinion of the creatures– she'd had to help Nyx chase them out of the shop on multiple occasions.

“Would they make good presents for newborns?” Rex asked. “Our… friends, they just had twins.”

The girl nodded. “There aren’t any small parts, so they won’t choke. I think it would be sweet, most children have a stuffed animal or two that mean a lot to them growing up.” She cast a critical eye at Ahsoka and her lightsabers, then at Rex. “Which neither of you probably realized.”

Ahsoka grinned. The girl was sharp. “We’ll take two,” she decided.

Rex picked two dolls off the table while Ahsoka completed the transaction. When she turned to see which ones he had chosen, she wasn't at all surprised to find they were both dark blue.

Almost 501st blue.

“Yelma,” Ahsoka heard the girl’s mother say as she and Rex walked away, “start packing up. Looks like the storm is gonna be here sooner than we expected.”

“Sounds like we’d best get back,” Rex said, slipping the two dolls into the pocket of his jacket. “Neither of us are particularly dressed for a rainstorm.”

“Hey,” Ahsoka protested, folding her arms across her middle. “It’s not like I _knew_ it was going to rain. It was perfectly sunny this morning!”

It wasn’t sunny anymore. The clouds brewing on the horizon rolled in, and Ahsoka felt the static of the oncoming storm pressing in around her. It was a poor substitute for the absence of the Force, but she embraced it all the same.

They were almost back to their speeder when the skies opened overhead. There was no warning, just a sudden deluge of rain that soaked everything instantaneously. Artoo squealed. Within moments, Ahsoka’s skirt clung wetly to her legs as rivulets of water ran down her montrals and into her eyes. 

She shivered and squinted into the onslaught, determined to make it back to the speeder. There, at least, she had a pair of goggles. They might still need to wait for the rain to subside before heading back, though. Riding through rain this heavy would _sting._

Behind her, Rex laughed.

Ahsoka stopped in her tracks. She hadn't heard Rex laugh– genuinely laugh– in… stars, she didn't know how long. He stood a few paces back, his head upturned, his eyes closed. Water careened down his face, a face that looked far younger in its joy.

When Rex turned to her, there was a light in his eyes that had been sorely missing as of late. As much as she felt like a drowned rat, Ahsoka couldn't help but smile back at him. She didn't understand the joke, but perhaps she didn't need to.

“Sorry, sir. I–”

_Ahsoka._ “You don’t need to apologize,” she said. “It is kinda funny, isn’t it? We just got ambushed by a rainstorm.”

That elicited another laugh. “Certainly more effective than any Seppie attack to date.” Rex then took notice of her sorry state. He immediately schooled his features, but the light in his eyes didn’t fade. “We should get back, huh?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Oh no, take all the time you need.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, we’ve got some gifts to give.”

* * *

(To his credit, Echo appeared only mildly guilty upon their waterlogged return.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration of Echo and Fives was a commission done by the wonderful [@bladelei](https://bladelei.tumblr.com/)! You can find a larger version on Tumblr, [here](https://bladelei.tumblr.com/post/617558938967277568/fives-dead-idk-what-youre-talkin-bout-but-a).
> 
> The illustration of Ahsoka standing in the rain is by me (Karma)! You can find a larger version on Tumblr, [here](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/post/616867972109172736/when-rex-turned-to-her-there-was-a-light-in-his).


	4. The Most Important Step is the First One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Plo Koon is the best, both Anakin and Obi-Wan get interrupted before they can eat lunch, and Bail meets baby Leia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from us. It's nearly 7k.
> 
> Ghostly wrote the entire flashback scene! I just cleaned it up so it would mesh better with my writing :)
> 
> Thank you so much for all your support! We've decided at this point that we'll be keeping Nyx instead of rewriting. We love the Martinez sisters, but they don't fit into our plot as well as we'd like them to.
> 
> Just as a reminder, I (Karma) have a tag on tumblr for this fic! I reblog posts that remind me of this fic, and eventually I'll post original content as well. You can find it [here!](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/tagged/aimitf)

****

** 15.04.27 (13 months ago) ** **  
11 months before Order 66  
The _Adamant_ , in Orbit Above Ringo Vinda  
** **1100h**

Anakin’s commlink started blinking just as he sat down for lunch in his quarters.

A wave of irritation washed over him. _Another_ call? He had been in calls with Tiplee and Tiplar almost all morning, plotting the intricacies of their upcoming assault on Ringo Vinda. Could he not get one kriffing moment to recharge in peace?

No, he could not. A Jedi general was never truly off-duty, even if further obligations made him feel like he was about to explode.

He heaved a sigh. _Fine._ One holocall, and then he could eat. He could handle _one_ call. Taking a moment to collect himself, he found his holodisk and set it on his desk. With a deep breath, he patched the call through.

“Yes? What is it?” In war, there was no time for niceties, which suited Anakin just fine. A moment later, he fully processed the figure in the holo before him. The heaviness in his body dissipated as he exclaimed, “Snips!”

His Padawan– no, _former_ Padawan– grinned. “Hey, Skyguy.”

Anakin couldn’t help but smile. He still wasn’t used to seeing her in the civilian jumpsuits she wore now, but she looked well. That was good. He knew she could take care of herself, but he worried about her often.

Perhaps more than often. Anakin could admit to himself that he thought about Ahsoka all the time. Her presence, even over holo, was a source of comfort in the same way Padme was. Well… almost the same way, at least. In a galaxy of uncertainty, there was a familiarity in her voice and facial markings. Still, he noted that even the latter was changing. Ahsoka continued to grow up without him.

He almost wished she wouldn’t.

Despite feeling as though he had so much to say to her, none of the words came. “How have you been?” he asked instead. “You’re still working as a mechanic, right? Nyx better be treating you well.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Yes, Anakin. I’m doing just fine. You don’t have to worry about Nyx, he’s been nothing but kind to me.”

She paused, and something in Anakin’s stomach dropped. After spending years with her on the front lines, Anakin probably knew Ahsoka even better than he knew himself. Ahsoka paused when she was choosing her words carefully, and Anakin ran through every possibility of what could be coming.

Luckily, she cut him short.

“Actually,” she said, “I called to ask how _you’re_ doing. You’re the one still fighting in the war, you know. How… how are you holding up?”

He couldn’t stop the cold dread that shot through him. It was a question that followed him wherever he went, and its frequency turned it into an accusation. _Something is wrong with you_ , it seemed to say, and not for the first time. _Something is broken, and everyone can see it. You are a Jedi. The Jedi are calm, collected, and peaceful. Why aren't you like them? They're going to find you out. They're just waiting for you to fail._

A new accusation joined the others: _Even Ahsoka can see it._

“I’m _fine,_ Ahsoka,” he snapped. She couldn’t see it. He couldn’t _let_ her see it, even if he wasn’t quite sure what ‘it’ was. His body tensed as his thoughts raced. He didn’t think before he spoke; the words just poured out of him. “Why does everyone keep _asking_ me that?”

Ahsoka looked at him, her all-knowing gaze sharp even through the hazy blue holo. “Anakin…”

The softness in her voice unraveled him. She, too, knew Anakin better than she knew herself, and he realized all at once that his evasion wouldn’t work on her.

“I– I don't know, Snips," he stammered, running his left hand back through his hair. "You know war. It's rough out here. For a while, I thought we finally had the upper hand, but it's starting to feel like it's all falling apart again." The words felt dangerous when said aloud, like some sort of confession, but he couldn't stop them. With a frustrated sigh, he put his elbows on his desk and buried his head in his hands. "I'm trying so hard to hold everything together, but it isn't enough, and I don't know what to do."

Ahsoka’s face crumpled. She hung her head, her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.”

Anakin looked up sharply. “What? No. What are you sorry for?”

“For not being there,” she said. “For not being able to help.”

Anakin nearly scoffed. _Help?_ He didn't need help. He was strong with the Force– possibly the strongest Jedi in the Order– and a general with countless victories to his name. He _shouldn’t_ need help. The prospect made him feel weak, and that scared him. 

If anyone else had said that to him, he would have been quick to tell them outright that he could handle everything on his own. But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Ahsoka. Ever since she had entered his life without warning on Christophsis, she had looked out for him, even though it was supposed to be the other way around. He had always felt safer with her watching his back.

It dawned on him slowly, watching her pensive expression, that she was still doing exactly that.

“I wish you were here, too, Snips,” he capitulated softly. “It isn’t the same without you, but it isn’t your war to fight. Not anymore.”

Ahsoka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said, although Anakin could tell she didn’t quite mean it. “But it’s not a war you were meant to fight alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Anakin protested. “I have Rex. And Obi-Wan.”

Ahsoka raised a brow. “Rex told me you brush him off every time he tries to talk to you.”

Anakin bristled. He had been excited to see Ahsoka, but he was _not_ enjoying this conversation. The emotional whiplash he got with every exchange made him feel as though he were jumping in and out of hyperspace. He knew she kept in touch with Rex, but…

The defensiveness returned just as quickly as it had faded just a moment before, and a hard edge crept into his voice. “Rex is reporting to you? About _me?_ ”

It felt like a violation of privacy, a breach of trust. Having his actions reported on with the Council was bad enough, but with the people he thought were _friends?_ There was nothing he hated more than being tested, and this bore a striking resemblance.

“Ahsoka, I– I don't like that." New suspicions began to set in, and he spoke his next question as an accusation. "What else did Rex say about me?"

Ahsoka stared back at him, horror in her wide eyes. “Anakin!” she exclaimed. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You know Rex! You’ve known Rex longer than you’ve known me! He’s a good man!”

She stammered for a second as she tried to find words. "Rex didn't volunteer the information. I asked about you because I _care_ about you. And so does he! Look, I wish I could be there with you right now, but I can’t. He can. He _is_. We’ve both trusted him with our lives a thousand times over. _Please_ , Master. Let yourself talk to him like you’re talking to me. I… I would worry less.”

Ahsoka… worried about him? Again, Anakin felt the storm hit and subside. One thing he had always loved about her was her passion. Once her mind was made up, there was no changing it, and he knew there was no point in trying. If he’d thought there was a chance he could change her mind about leaving the Order… no. He shook the thought clear from his head, but another took its place. 

Ahsoka wasn’t part of the Order anymore, was she? This couldn’t be a test like the ones the Council tended to favor. She had no higher-ups to report to, no reason or means to pass on information. Maybe it was safe to talk to her after all. Maybe it was the same with Rex.

Maybe she had a point. Just… maybe.

“All right, all right, Snips,” he relented. “You win. I’ll… I’ll talk to him.”

Ahsoka's toothy grin was rewarding enough for his words. When she asked, "Promise?" he really had no choice.

“Okay,” he said. “I promise.”

* * *

****

** 16.05.35 (Present Day) ** **  
2 months after Order 66  
The Jedi Temple  
1200h**

Obi-Wan Kenobi felt a headache brewing behind his left eye.

He wasn’t the only one. Across the room, Stass Allie rubbed her temple surreptitiously. The listless looks upon Shaak Ti’s and Kit Fisto’s faces told him they weren't faring much better. Meanwhile, Ki-Adi Mundi debated a point with the unflappable Plo Koon. As the two masters dove into a tangential argument, Obi-Wan suppressed a sigh and resisted the urge to check his chrono.

Council meetings had never been fun. Perhaps they were more fun when they weren't always about war, but Obi-Wan hadn't joined the Council until after the Clone Wars had begun. Still, they weren't usually this excruciating.

The High Council had convened at daybreak. Coruscant’s sun now hung high overhead.

It was, admittedly, a meeting that was long overdue. The Council– or at least, what remained of the Council– had agreed it could wait until more pressing matters had been attended to. In the past two months, they'd held too many funerals and reassured Padawans and Jedi alike. The structural damage to the Temple still needed assessment and repair, and that wasn't even mentioning their duties to their individual battalions.

Obi-Wan was exhausted. Just yesterday, Cody had commented on the dark smudges beneath his eyes, and Obi-Wan could only shrug in response. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t noticed them _or_ the ever-increasing number of grey hairs at his temples. 

Personally, he thought that choosing new Council members could have waited until they'd all had a little more sleep. They'd been mostly unified in their other decisions in the wake of Order 66, but it had been two months. They were all at the ends of their tempers and couldn't agree on _one_ nomination, let alone six.

The current argument?

Anakin Skywalker.

Of course.

“He’s married,” Ki-Adi stressed, not for the first time. “He has _children_. If things were different, he wouldn’t even be allowed to stay in the Order, let alone be considered for the Council.”

Obi-Wan had kept his tongue so far, but enough was enough. “Might I remind you that you have five wives and seven children, Master Mundi?” he asked dryly.

“That’s different,” Ki-Adi said. “I was granted an exception–”

“Then perhaps another exception is in order,” Plo interrupted with measured tones. “After all, things are _not_ different, and we cannot allow ourselves to get caught up in the hypothetical.”

Obi-Wan realized then that Plo was just as done with the meeting as the rest of them. He usually never interrupted _anybody._

“I suggest we call this meeting to a close,” Plo continued. “We have been here far too long already, and it is unlikely we will make any further progress at this time.”

The other masters nodded their assent, and the otherwise silent room came alive with the sounds of rustling robes and shuffling feet as they stood. Was that what standing felt like? Obi-Wan had quite forgotten. Maybe he _was_ getting old.

Once he was outside the Council chamber, he finally checked his commlink. To his surprise, the indicator light emitted a steady glow. Who was trying to comm him? All the Council members had been in the chamber, and the time on Naboo was…

_Naboo._

That was today?

Right. The Chancellor’s trial was set to begin tomorrow. Anakin and Padmé were arriving on Coruscant today. Last he’d heard, Ahsoka would be with them, along with the contingent of the 501st that had assisted her on Mandalore. Cody wouldn’t say as much, but Obi-Wan knew he was excited to see Captain Rex again. 

The comm was a brief audio missive informing Obi-Wan that Anakin and Padmé were at Padmé’s apartments, and would he like to join them for lunch?

Obi-Wan had just sent an affirmative response when Plo approached.

“Master Kenobi,” he said. “May I have a moment of your time?”

Almost immediately, Obi-Wan felt his headache return. “Of course, Master. What about?”

Plo chuckled. “What else? Skywalker, of course.”

Obi-Wan nearly smiled. “‘What else’ indeed.”

Plo indicated for Obi-Wan to walk with him, and Obi-Wan fell into step beside him. Lunch would, unfortunately, have to wait.

“I noticed you were particularly silent on the matter of Skywalker’s potential nomination to the Council,” Plo began. “Why, when you surely know him better than any of us?”

"For precisely that reason," Obi-Wan explained without hesitation. "I felt as though my opinion was too biased, and my input would be unreliable. It was better to let everyone else talk it out first."

Plo nodded. “But you do have opinions,” he noted. “What is your assessment of the situation?”

Obi-Wan considered the man beside him. Yoda had done well when he chose the Kel Dor master to be the next Grandmaster of the Order before disappearing into retirement. The past few months had almost been more stressful than the past few years combined, and yet Plo Koon handled it with aplomb. 

“I don’t disagree with the former Council’s decision to allow Anakin to sit on the Council without granting him the title of master,” Obi-Wan said carefully. “Putting aside the fact we were manipulated by Darth Sidious, and it was a move designed to place a wedge between Anakin and the Jedi…”

“Of course.”

“For all that he’s strong with the Force and a brilliant general, Anakin has always been headstrong and emotionally volatile. Until recently, I would have agreed that he was not ready for mastership or for a position on the Council.”

“But that has changed?” Plo asked.

“I understand the Order’s stance on love and attachment,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his chin and steadfastly ignoring the jolt of grief at the unbidden thought of Satine. “But watching Anakin with Padmé, I have to wonder if, perhaps, we take it too far. He has been far happier and far more stable in the past two months with her and his children than in the thirteen years I’ve known him.”

"But in his report to us, he said he's been married to her for the past three years. Why would there be a noticeable change now? It can't solely be due to the birth of his… children."

They walked in silence for several steps as Obi-Wan gathered his thoughts. “Darth Sidious met Anakin when Anakin was only nine years old. I have no doubt that he recognized his strength with the Force and his potential almost as early as we did.” He sighed. “Sidious was a master of manipulation. If he could drive the entire galaxy into an entirely fabricated war, what could he do to a single impressionable boy?”

“Yes,” Plo said. “In hindsight, it is evident that his request for us to place Skywalker on the Council was designed to drive a wedge between him and the Jedi.”

“In hindsight,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I’m beginning to hate that word.”

“You believe that, with Sidious dead, Skywalker has been able to break free of his manipulations?”

“He had begun to see the truth before Sidious’s death, or else I fear things would have gone far differently,” Obi-Wan said with dark certainty. “But only, I believe, because he had someone he could confide in without fear of retribution from the Order.”

“Little ‘Soka,” Plo said. “It was a mistake to expel her from the Order. You and I both know that.”

“And yet, perhaps, it was that decision which saved us all.” For all he believed his words, Obi-Wan was unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

“Perhaps. Master Kenobi, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

"Please keep an eye on Skywalker while he's on Coruscant to further evaluate his suitability as a Council nominee. Or, rather, whether he's suitable to remain on the Council. You know him better than any of us, and I trust your judgement."

Obi-Wan nodded his assent. He didn't particularly like the idea of spying on his former Padawan. It felt too much like why Sidious had appointed Anakin to the Council in the first place. But, he reasoned, he wasn't spying. He would interact with Anakin as he usually would. He wouldn't be reporting on Anakin's movements to the Council, only whether or not he was a suitable nominee.

It was better this way. Any other method of testing Anakin would be precisely that: a test. Anakin had never done well with the pressure and expectations that came along with being tested.

“Of course, Master. Now, I apologize, but I must run. I’m already late for lunch.”

Plo waved him off with a chuckle.

* * *

Coruscant hadn’t changed.

The upper levels of Galactic City glittered in the night. Pinpricks of lit windows in the residential districts gleamed against soot-streaked duracrete. Traffic rushed through the chasms and high overhead, the glow of the headlights and taillights the only stars one could see from the surface. Far below, smog writhed through dingy alleyways, wrapping everything it touched in its smoky embrace. In the lower levels, there was no night or day, just the constant sickly glow of dirty streetlights against the haze.

For all that had happened in the last few months, life went on as it always had. Coruscant hadn’t changed.

And yet, from the moment Ahsoka set foot on the weathered duracrete of the shuttle platform that afternoon, she felt as though it had.

It wasn’t an easy feeling to describe. Ahsoka spent most of the day navigating the bureaucracy of the GAR Headquarters with both Rex and Cody at her side, so it wasn’t a battlefield premonition of danger. In fact, it was less of a _feeling_ and more a _sensation_. It was a mild uneasiness that sat between her shoulder blades as she coordinated the reintegration of the 501st.

It was only later, after speaking to Fives, that Ahsoka would realize what it was. Coruscant felt like a time capsule. She hadn’t been on-planet since she escaped with Fives over a year ago. She hadn’t been to the upper levels since she left the Jedi Order a couple months before that. 

Coruscant may not have changed, but _she_ certainly had.

It was late by the time the flimsiwork was squared away. Shortly after the sun had set, Ahsoka was no longer merely an advisor to, but the new general of the 501st. Anakin Skywalker was, effective immediately, retired from the GAR.

“Yeah,” Rex– officially her commander now– said as they left GAR Headquarters. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Ahsoka raised a brow. “You don’t think Skyguy can sit still?”

Rex didn’t even deign to give her a response. They both knew better than anyone, except perhaps Obi-Wan Kenobi, that Anakin Skywalker couldn’t sit still.

“He’s a Jedi,” Cody said, entirely serious. “None of them can sit still longer than a Coruscanti nano-second.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the barracks, located as they were just outside Headquarters. Ahsoka bid the men goodnight, turning down several invitations to join them at 79’s later that night in the process. It had been too long since any of them had time to themselves without their commanding officer looking over their shoulders. She would give them that, at the very least.

“Another time,” she promised Kix.

She would have ignored Rex's side glance and subtle smirk had he not spoken. "You rarely turn down an opportunity to spend time with the men, sir," he said. "Going to see your boyfriend?"

“You’re going to call me ‘sir’ and ask about my personal life in the same breath?” Ahsoka snipped. A chorus of ‘Ohh’s rose from the men within earshot, and her lekku flushed in shame. It wasn’t that the men didn’t know about Nyx – they were terrible gossips – but they rarely, if ever, saw her get short with Rex. She needed to get herself under control.

“Sorry,” she said, her shoulders slumping as the fight went out of her. Rex’s face was studiously blank. “No, I’m not going to see Nyx. I think I shot that one pretty dead. I’m… I’m going to the Temple.”

“What?” Jesse asked, pushing past Kix. “You’re going back _there?_ After what they did to you?”

Ahsoka shrugged helplessly, and Rex’s face softened. He, at least, knew the trouble she’d been having with the Force. As her second-in-command, it would have been hard to keep it from him– not that she’d wanted to.

“Ah, Jedi business,” Fives scoffed. “Come on, guys. If So'ika wants to leave us behind for some boring mumbo-jumbo, she can do that.” With some forceful cajoling, he ushered his brothers down the street toward 79’s. Ahsoka rolled her eyes at him when he winked back at her.

“Are you going to be okay, sir?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka sighed. "Yeah. I think… I'll be fine, Rex. You should go with your brothers. Tell them that if it's not too late, I'll come and find you after. Okay?"

“Okay. And, um… may the Force be with you.”

After all these years, the words still fell awkwardly from his lips. Ahsoka forced a grin. “That’s the idea.”

With that, Ahsoka left both Rex and the barracks behind. The barracks were located just far enough from the Temple that one usually took a speeder or hired a cab when travelling between the two, but tonight, she wanted to walk. 

She knew she was just pushing off the inevitable. She didn’t really _want_ to go to the Temple, any more than she wanted to go see Nyx. Coruscant was covered in bridges she’d burned, and the flames provided no warmth against the night’s chill. She pulled the edges of her robe more tightly around her.

Ahsoka lost herself in thought as she walked, so much so that she was almost surprised to see the Jedi Temple looming before her. Once upon a time, it had felt like home. Once upon a time, it stood as a beacon of all that was good and right in the galaxy.

Not anymore. Not to her.

Ahsoka climbed the Temple steps in trepidation. She didn’t belong here. The Force, usually so bright and warm and welcoming around the Temple, was dull and listless. Still, hope sparked in her chest. Dull and listless was better than nonexistent, but... if she could feel it properly, what would it say? Would it welcome her home? Or would it turn her away?

Upon reaching the top of the steps, Ahsoka could immediately see the damage wrought by Order 66. The entrance to the Temple was surrounded by carbon scoring and lightsaber gouges alike. Blaster bolts had chipped away the duracrete, leaving a pockmarked facade in the otherwise elegant structure.

The main entrance was flanked by two Temple Guards, their yellow saber-staffs glowing embers against the dark. Ahsoka swallowed hard. Considering the bombing and Order 66, she had no doubt that security had been increased since she’d last been here. Would they even let her pass? She was no Jedi, not anymore. 

She’d even left her lightsabers with Anakin, just in case.

Thankfully, while the guards' gazes rested heavily upon her, they allowed her to pass. Once she was inside the Temple, Ahsoka pulled the hood of her robe up over her montrals. It was late, and the halls were empty, but she didn't want to be recognized.

She didn’t want to have that conversation. Not yet.

Despite the weight of her robe, she shivered as she made her way through familiar halls. Muscle memory carried her through the main throughway and the Room of a Thousand Fountains, past the library, and up to the private meditation rooms at the base of the Temple Spire.

For all that the Jedi Temple was exactly as she remembered, it was also nothing like she remembered.

The halls were cold and imposing where once they had been warm and welcoming. Many of the fountains had been drained for repairs to be done, leaving them brown and dry. The carbon scoring, pockmarks, and lightsaber gouges she'd seen on the outside of the building littered most of the first few levels, but grew scarcer the farther she went.

She didn’t want to imagine the fight that took place here. She didn’t want to imagine the men of the 501st – her men – gunning down their mind-controlled brothers in the Coruscant Guard.

By the time she reached the private meditation chambers, Ahsoka felt so rattled from walking through the temple that she wasn’t sure she would be able to meditate at all. The door closed behind her with a hiss and a snick. Discarding her robe on one of the settees within the chamber, she allowed herself a moment to breathe.

“Well,” she said to the empty room. “Here goes nothing.”

Although she hadn’t meditated properly in over a year, she sank easily into a cross-legged position atop a settee, her hands resting lightly on her knees. She closed her eyes. She breathed in. She breathed out.

She breathed in.

She breathed out.

She _reached_.

Nothing reached back. She was trying to breathe in the vacuum of space, and she tumbled head over heels into emptiness. There was nothing to tell her which way was up, and she was falling… 

falling… 

f a l l i n g …

Ahsoka came back to herself with a start. Her breathing, ragged and heavy, echoed within the anechoic chamber of the meditation room as she struggled to recenter herself.

_Sithspit._

Shortly after she reached out to the Force in the initial wake of Order 66, she'd told Rex that meditating had left her feeling like she'd been sucked out into space without a suit. The description was still accurate, but this was… worse.

It was something she couldn't do again. Not right away. Instead, Ahsoka stood on shaking limbs and crossed the small room to stand by the slatted window. Folding her arms across her chest in a weak attempt to quell her shivers, she gazed out upon Coruscant below.

Perhaps… perhaps she wasn’t meant to reconnect with the Force. Her heart twinged at the thought. She had made her peace with the fact she was no longer a Jedi long ago. Why did that prospect suddenly feel like such a failure?

The door hissed open behind her. Instinctively, she whirled away from the window and dropped into a defensive crouch, reaching for lightsabers that weren’t there. How hadn’t she felt their presence?

“Whoa,” the figure said. “Easy there, Little ‘Soka. Koh-to-ah.”

The calm, even voice felt like a sucker-punch to the stomach. "Master Plo?” Her voice wavered as she straightened. “Koh-to-ah. How did you… know I was here?”

“When I heard you were returning with Skywalker and Senator Amidala, I thought you might find your way here. I asked the Temple Guards to notify me when you did.” His eyes twinkled in the dim light. “Though I did not expect to see you here tonight.”

“Yes, Master. I mean– no, Master. I–” Ahsoka scuffed her foot, feeling once again like a youngling. “I know I’m not supposed to be here. I’ll leave. I just–”

Master Plo chuckled as he took a seat. “Breathe, young one. I’m not here to kick you out.”

Ahsoka’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Why… _are_ you here, then?”

“Why am I here? You tell me. Take a seat, Little ‘Soka. I feel a great conflict within you."

Part of her wanted to stay standing. She wasn’t a Jedi. She didn’t deserve this kindness. The Order had turned on her when she needed them most. Why would they offer to help her now? Could she take it? Or would she only get burned once again?

 _Not the Order_ , she told herself firmly as she sat. _Master Plo_. Master Plo, who had found her as a youngling. Master Plo, who – along with Master Obi-Wan – had dissented with the Council on their decision to kick her out.

Perhaps she couldn’t trust the Jedi, but she could trust Master Plo.

“It’s the Force,” she said. “I haven’t been able to feel it since… since…” It was still hard to say aloud. She gave up. “When I try to meditate, _truly_ meditate, there’s… there’s nothing there. It’s like getting sucked out into space, and I just lose myself in the emptiness.”

Master Plo nodded slowly. “Have you talked to Skywalker about this?”

Ahsoka hung her head. “No,” she admitted. “He’s not technically my master anymore, and he’s dealing with so much I– I didn’t want to burden him. I thought I could handle it.”

“But you cannot?”

“No,” she said, biting back her temper. After so long with only clones for company– first Fives and then the 332nd– she’d forgotten just how karking _cryptic_ the Jedi could be.

“Tell me, Little ‘Soka. When you reach out to the Force, what do you expect to find there?”

Ahsoka blinked. “Nothing,” she said. “They’re all gone. They’re all–” _dead._ Dead by their soldiers’ own hands.

“All?” Master Plo asked. "What about me, then? What about you? What about Skywalker and Master Kenobi, and all the younglings the 501st managed to save? What about them?"

“I–”

“When you go looking for what’s not there,” he continued gently, “you’ll find exactly that. A terrible tragedy occurred, yes. But we cannot overlook the living in searching for the dead. Concentrate on what _remains_ , not that which is lost.”

“I– Yeah, okay. That makes sense. But…” She shivered. “What if I can’t do it? What if I fall again?”

“Then I will be here,” Master Plo said. He drew his feet up and turned to her, the backs of his hands resting on his knees, his palms open. "Put your hands in mine, young one. I will anchor you here with me."

Ahsoka mirrored his position, tentatively placing her fingertips in his large palms. She hadn't participated in guided meditation like this since… gosh, since she was fourteen. She and Anakin had figured out pretty quickly that neither of them was particularly skilled with traditional meditation. Master Obi-Wan had volunteered to step in, but then the war picked up, and it just… never happened.

“Breathe,” Master Plo said as she closed her eyes. “Be mindful of the present, not of the past. Reach out to those who are still here, not to those who have left us.”

She breathed in.

She breathed out.

She reached.

She reached _farther._

For the first time in two months, something reached back. Ahsoka felt Master Plo in front of her, his presence warm and soothing and unavoidable. She became aware of the other Jedi in the Temple slowly, their presence luminous in the Force. Far off, she felt the pinpricks of Anakin, Luke, and Leia. 

It still felt like space, but space behind a transparisteel viewport. In the darkness, there were stars. Perhaps not as many stars as there once were, but stars all the same.

More than that, it felt like coming home.

It was with reluctance that she let the Force ebb away from her. When she opened her eyes, she noted with relief that she still felt it thrumming within her the same way it always used to.

She pulled her hands away from Master Plo’s. “Thank you, Master.” 

“It feels like you can breathe again,” the Kel Dor said. When Ahsoka shot him a look, his eyes creased in a smile. “You are not the only one who felt this way. We all did, to one extent or another, but we had each other here to help us.”

Ahsoka felt foolish. If she’d just told Anakin what the problem was, could he have helped her sooner? Had her own pride blinded her for two months?

“Go on, Little ‘Soka,” Master Plo said, standing. “You’re staying with Skywalker and Senator Amidala, yes? It’s late– I’m sure they’re worried by now.”

“Yeah, probably,” Ahsoka said absently, gathering her cloak. “Um. Master?” 

“Yes?”

“I– I don’t think I want to come back to the Order. Not… not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. But… may I come back here? To the Temple?”

“I won’t even have the guards notify me next time,” Master Plo said, and then he was gone.

Ahsoka put on her cloak and pulled the hood up over her montrals once again. Checking her muted commlink, she winced.

Yep. They were worried. She’d have to apologize to Fives and the others in the morning for not making it to 79’s– she needed to get back to Padmé’s apartment as soon as possible.

* * *

Padmé didn’t _regret_ waiting up for Ahsoka the night before, but she had to admit Anakin may have had a point when he suggested she go to bed. Sleep was in short supply these days, as Luke and Leia had yet to begin sleeping through the night. Still, she couldn’t leave Anakin waiting up alone.

Not when he’d been worried Ahsoka wouldn’t return.

Thankfully, she’d stepped off a cab onto Padmé’s landing platform around one o’clock standard. Padmé hadn’t stuck around for Ahsoka’s conversation with Anakin; it wasn’t her place. Instead, she’d gone to bed to get what little sleep she could. When Anakin didn’t crawl into bed until nearly two hours later, she knew she’d made the right decision.

Even if it meant bringing the twins to her meeting with Bail this morning so Anakin could sleep.

“Padmé, it’s good to see you,” Bail said as she stepped into his office. “Sabé, Eirtaé, Dormé” he acknowledged each of her aides with a nod as they followed behind with supplies for the twins.

“Thank you,” Padmé said to them. “That’s all I need for now. I’ll let you know when we need to get everything back.”

Eirtaé and Dormé nodded and left, but Sabé stayed behind with Luke in her arms. She had volunteered to sit and watch the twins through the meeting so Padmé could remain focused on the matter at hand, and Padmé had secretly been grateful. She would trust her aides with full responsibility for her children when they were a bit older. For now, Padmé wanted them with her or Anakin at all times.

She turned to Bail with a smile and adjusted Leia in her arms. “It’s good to see you too, Bail, especially in times such as these.”

“You’re telling me,” Bail said. “The Senate is pure and utter chaos. You couldn’t have returned at a better– or a worse– time. I suppose nothing I say will convince you to take more time for yourself and your family?”

“Not on your life,” Padmé said, taking a seat. “Besides, I have my family with me right here.”

“Ah, yes. Would you introduce us?”

“Of course. Bail, this is Leia Naberrie-Skywalker. Sabé has Luke Naberrie-Skywalker.” Padmé paused. “Would you like to hold her?”

Bail smiled. “I would love to.”

Carefully, oh-so-carefully, Padmé handed Leia to Bail. He took her gently, and it warmed Padmé’s heart to see one of her closest friends gazing at her daughter with such love. She wondered if this was how Anakin felt when Ahsoka and Rex met the twins for the first time.

“Breha and I… you know we’ve been trying,” Bail said, rocking Leia gently. “We still haven’t had any luck.”

"I'm sorry to hear that," Padmé said after a brief delay. She knew Bail had been struggling, but she couldn't understand what it was like. Her children, for all the blessing they were, had been an accident.

“It’s fine. We’ve shifted to talking about adoption. The Clone Wars have made orphans of so many; we will be happy to help where we can.” Bail shot her a sly look. “But if, perhaps, you found yourself too overwhelmed with twins, and we could take this little girl off your hands…”

Padmé laughed, and Sabé twittered from where she was setting up the portable cribs in the back of the room. “You’d have to fight both me and Anakin for her, and I don’t think that’s a fight you’d win. The best I can offer you is ‘uncle.’

“Uncle Bail,” he mused, looking down at the baby in his arms. “Would you like that? Then my children could be your cousins.”

Leia cooed, and Padmé grinned. “I think she would like that. I think Luke would, too.”

“It’s settled, then,” Bail said, handing Leia back to Padmé. Sabé had since gotten the cribs set up, so Padmé laid her down to rest before returning to the desk. 

“Now,” she said. “What was so important you had to meet me this morning? The lawyers are handling the trial. At most, we’ll be called for testimony later on in the proceedings.”

“Padmé, I’m hurt that you assume there was another reason for this meeting other than that I wanted to see you. But you’re right. You’ve been looking through the documentation released on Senate affairs since Palpatine was elected Senator, yes?”

"Yes," Padmé said. "But there's a lot, and I've been focusing my attention on his early political career on Naboo. Why? What did you find?"

“I’ve been looking through the Senate financial reports since the beginning of the war. Do you know just how much funding has been going to the Strategic Advisory Cell?”

“The committee overseeing the effort against the Separatists? No, but I imagine it’s a fair amount.”

“It’s more than that,” Bail said derisively, handing her a datapad. “Still, as the main body overseeing the war, that in itself isn’t particularly suspicious. What’s _suspicious_ is the fact that the SAC accounts are meticulously detailed as to where the money is going… except where they aren’t.”

Padmé scanned the datapad, taking in the information as quickly as she could. She was no accountant, but… “Most of the funding is going toward the Republic Special Weapons Group,” she noted, “but the funding they’re getting is more than they’re spending. Far more.”

“Far more than they’re _reporting_ spending,” Bail said. “You’d think they’d have covered their tracks better, but these reports were confidential until a couple months ago. They’re probably hoping none of the Senators actually bother to read the reports.”

Padmé tapped her fingernails against Bail’s desk. “Republic Special Weapons Group… I don’t like that. Who else knows of this?”

“No one yet. I wanted to bring it to you first.”

"Let's keep it quiet for now," she decided. "We don't need to worry anyone any more than they already are. Who are the members of the Strategic Advisory Cell?"

Bail picked up another datapad. “It has about 150 members. Some senators – mostly those who supported the Chancellor – along with representatives from Corellian Engineering, the Kuat Drive Yards, and Rendili StarDrive. There are also some key advisors, the chief of naval intelligence, the director of COMPOR, some high-ranking military brass, members of the War Production Board, structural engineers, starship designers, and several theoretical and experimental physicists.”

“I’m liking this less and less,” Padmé said. “Names, Bail. I want some names.”

Bail raised an eyebrow. “When you say ‘keep it quiet’ you really mean you’re going to investigate it yourself, don’t you?”

“Bail.”

He sighed. “Excluding Palpatine? Dr. Gubacher, Professor Sahali, Lieutenant Commander Orson Krennic, and former Vice-Chancellor Mas Amedda.”

Padmé hummed and continued tapping the desk as she thought back. “There were reports of a Separatist superweapon toward the beginning of the war,” she said slowly. “There was a vote right after the first battle of Geonosis to fund our own, remember? I voted against it, but the motion passed by a landslide. That was the last we heard of it, though. You’d think we would have heard _some_ other rumor from the Separatists in the last three years.”

“There’s plenty of evidence that suggests Palpatine was controlling both sides of the war. In retrospect, we have to question each of his choices.”

“Yes,” Padmé said. “We do. Unfortunately, that vote means this project is legal, whatever it is. We’ll have to be careful.”

“Padmé–”

“It’s unlikely anyone will talk to us if we ask. They’re probably sworn to secrecy… although whether to keep secrets from the Separatists or the Republic, we don’t know.”

“Padmé, it’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t let this go, Bail. That money will be needed to rebuild the Republic, and the war is essentially over! Any weapon they’re developing now will only be used on their own people as a display of power, and I can’t stand by and watch that happen. I won’t.”

“What you speak of is bordering on treason,” Bail warned, “but I’ve known you too long to think I can stop you.” He sighed. “What do you need?”

Padmé’s eyes flicked to Sabé, who still sat in the corner with the twins. “I have an idea.”


	5. New Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin spends a day with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and his children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We watched the series finale last night and spite-wrote a record 3k today so that we could post. We reject your reality and substitute our own.
> 
> Happy (?) Star Wars Day!

****

** 15.04.33 (13 months ago) ** **  
11 months before Order 66  
GAR Headquarters, Coruscant  
2150h**

Today was not shaping up to be Rex’s day.

The whole week had been a nightmare, really. The GAR had always known Ringo Vinda was going to be one of the hardest campaigns of the war. That alone was enough, but then Tup had gone and _shot_ General Tiplar. Rex had wanted to accompany Tup back to Kamino himself, but he trusted Fives as though the younger man were his batchmate. He knew Tup couldn’t be in safer hands.

Three days later, Ringo Vinda was lost, Tup was dead, and Fives had allegedly attempted to assassinate the Chancellor. How had things gone so wrong in such a short time?

“No, General,” Rex said into his commlink. “I haven’t heard anything yet. I will let you know as soon as I do.”

“We have to find Fives before the others do,” General Skywalker said. “We _must_ get to the bottom of this.”

“Yes, sir.”

The steel left Rex’s spine as the line went dead. He couldn’t even begin to express how tired he was of everything. The scenario was all too familiar. He hated the fact that not two months had passed since Ahsoka left, and he was once again hunting down someone whom he called a friend.

Fives _wouldn’t_. He wouldn’t attempt to assassinate the Chancellor any more than Ahsoka would attempt to bomb the Jedi Temple… right? Rex knew Fives could be a bit… _unconventional_ at times, and prone to ignoring or misinterpreting orders when he saw a better way, but assassination?

Fives was as loyal as a man could be.

Right?

Rex’s commlink started blinking again, and he bit back a curse. “Rex here,” he said shortly.

“Sir, it’s Kix,” Kix said. “I just saw Fives at 79’s. What’s going on? Did he really attempt to assassinate the Chancellor?”

“We don’t know,” Rex said. “Is he still with you?”

“N-No,” Kix said. “Um… he seems in pretty bad shape. Told me he was being framed, and that the Jedi are in danger.”

Rex rubbed his temples and stifled a sigh. “Where is he, then?”

“He asked me to contact you. I told him he should turn himself in, but he said that whatever this is, it goes all the way to the top. He was talking about some sort of… of _conspiracy._ ” His voice dropped to a hush on ‘conspiracy.’ "He wants to talk to you or the general directly... and alone. Here, he gave me coordinates."

Rex hesitated as Kix rattled off the coordinates. This was all highly irregular, but… “Thank you, Kix. I’ll talk to the general. Keep your ears open, let me know if you hear anything else.”

“Yessir!”

This was all highly irregular, but Fives never did anything without reason. What could he have gotten himself mixed up in, that would make him this paranoid? Something was tying the incident with Tup to the current situation, but Rex couldn’t piece it together.

He should tell the general. He _needed_ to tell the general, but something about this didn't sit right with him. He would be remiss as a soldier if he passed along false information to his commanding officer. Checking the coordinates Kix forwarded to him, he scrubbed a hand down his jaw. 

Okay. There was a lot he didn’t know. What _did_ he know?

Not a lot.

It took everything he had to restrain himself from hitting the nearby console with his fist. It was right there, but it lay just beyond his grasp. With nearly three years of active duty under his belt, he was no stranger to strange situations. Most of the time, he could credit that to Skywalker’s unorthodox battlefield maneuvers. Here on Coruscant, however, things didn’t usually go wrong– and when they did, never quite like this.

Except…

Rex’s mind drifted again to the bombing of the Jedi Temple, and he couldn’t shake his unease. Ahsoka had been framed. Was it possible Fives could be in the same situation? He wanted to believe it was true, but if it was, it raised even more questions he didn’t like.

How? And why now?

And if these weren’t isolated incidents, who was pulling the strings?

Rex didn't like going into situations blind. As a captain, it was his duty to bring his men home safe, and that meant knowing as much about the situation as he could. The sentiment had only increased since he became acting commander after Ahsoka left.

Ahsoka…

Wait.

Fives didn’t trust the Republic. That much was clear from what Kix said. He was sure to have the Coruscant Guard hot on his tail, and while Rex and General Skywalker could do their best to get to him first, they might not make it.

He rechecked the coordinates. Last he'd heard, Ahsoka was still on Coruscant, though she'd recently bought a ship. Would she be nearby? They were heading into a situation entirely unknown, and there was no one else Rex would rather have watching his back.

If this really _was_ some sort of conspiracy – the thought alone felt like treason – then it could be the very same one Ahsoka had gotten wrapped up in months ago. Rex couldn't know for sure. Maybe the Republic was right, and Fives was a traitor, but they'd been wrong before. He gritted his teeth as he remembered Umbara, as he remembered Ahsoka staring up at him from atop the ship after leaping out of the duct.

Fives was a man who always did what he thought was right. Rex owed it to him to do the same.

His mind racing, he reopened the line to General Skywalker and informed him of Fives’ location. Then, he dialed in a comm code that was just as familiar and hoped Ahsoka picked up.

* * *

****

** 16.08.03 (Present Day) ** **  
2.5 months after Order 66  
Senate Apartment Complex, Coruscant  
0900h**

If he hadn’t already been tipped off by Ahsoka, Obi-Wan would have known something was wrong the moment he stepped foot into Padmé’s apartment. The faint smell of grease and fried electronics, alongside the clattering coming from the kitchen, told him Anakin was _tinkering._

Not that it was unusual for Obi-Wan to find Anakin with a spare part and a screwdriver in his downtime. R2-D2 was likely the best-kept astromech in the Republic. Before the war, when downtime was more plentiful, Anakin practically had his name on one of the bays within the Temple. He often had some big project he was working on.

But Anakin was always meticulous about when and where he worked, making sure to keep his workspace and the space around him clean. Always… except for when he had something bothering him.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan called into the empty space.

“In here, Master!”

When Obi-Wan rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks. Only his Jedi reflexes stopped him from stepping on a stray spring. Anakin sat in the middle of the tiled floor, surrounded by pieces of what looked like it used to be the toaster. That was another thing. Anakin only took things apart when stressed, too.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, nudging the spring with his toe. “Ahsoka said it was bad.”

Anakin looked up and flashed him a wry grin, then averted his eyes quickly. “She had to kick me off the _Adamant_ this morning.”

Obi-Wan sighed and settled into a crouch. “You know she has everything well in hand,” he said. “Possibly more than we ever did.”

“I… know. I know!” Anakin sighed. “Sorry, Obi-Wan. I just–”

“It’s hard, watching your Padawan grow up,” Obi-Wan said. “Believe me, I know the feeling.”

Anakin smiled again. “Yeah,” he said. “I suppose you do.”

They lapsed into silence, the only sound between them the metallic tapping of Anakin’s screwdriver against the toaster. Even the Force seemed to be waiting with bated breath for one of them to say something– anything– else.

It pained Obi-Wan to see Anakin like this. Anakin had always been a broody, emotional teenager, but beneath it lay a sheer amount of overwhelming overconfidence Obi-Wan had struggled to rein in. In the three years that had passed since the first battle of Geonosis, Anakin had finally begun to come into his own. His brash decisions and unwavering confidence were backed up by experience and success alike.

In just four short months, it had all come tumbling down. Obi-Wan recognized before him the nine-year-old boy fresh off Tatooine, insecure about his place in the Order and too afraid of being sent away to ask.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin for a moment longer, then stood. _Kriff_ , were those his knees? He was getting old. The grey hairs were bad enough.

"Come on," he said. "I know something you can help with if you'd like to do something other than rip apart Padmé’s poor toaster.”

“But I can’t go anywhere,” Anakin protested. “I’ve got to watch Luke and Leia.”

“We can take them with us. Anakin, you can’t spend your entire time on Coruscant in Padmé’s apartment.”

“I’ve only been here four days,” Anakin grumbled. He tossed his screwdriver aside as he stood. “But fine. Where are we going, Master?”

Obi-Wan made a split-second decision. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

The speeder route from Padmé’s apartments to the Jedi Temple was a familiar one, and it didn’t take Anakin long to figure out where Obi-Wan was taking them. “The Temple?” he demanded. “Obi-Wan, are– are you sure this is a good idea? With Luke and Leia, I–”

“You _are_ a Jedi, are you not?”

Anakin winced and sat back in the passenger seat with a huff. "Sometimes I wonder," he muttered under his breath.

Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to sense Anakin's change in demeanor. He was all too familiar with the clench of his former Padawan's jaw, his crossed arms, and his fixed gaze on the space before him. For several long, uncomfortable minutes, there was only silence between them.

Obi-Wan also knew that when Anakin got like this, it was best to let him speak first.

“Master, this isn’t a good idea. Please. I don’t want to do this. Not now.” Anakin didn’t look at him as he spoke, but the panic in his eyes was evident when Obi-Wan cast him a sidelong glance. “Can’t we go _anywhere_ else? Don’t make me–”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan cut him off right before he could begin rambling, his slow, calm tone a stark contrast to Anakin’s increasingly frenzied pleas. “Tell me. Why does this make you so nervous?”

"Oh, come on. You know why!" Anakin retorted, twisting in his seat to face Obi-Wan. Meeting Anakin's eyes for a moment, the Jedi Master simply raised his brows in response. Anakin let out an exasperated sigh. “Maybe it’s because I’m a _Jedi?_ With _children?_ ” 

He looked to Obi-Wan expectantly. When Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he continued. “Because I’ve broken the Jedi Code? And as much as I love my children,” he said meekly, glancing back at where the twins were safely ensconced in their carriers in the backseat of the speeder, “they’re… proof of that.”

Obi-Wan parked the speeder at the Temple and regarded his former Padawan for a long moment, warmth swelling in his chest. “That may be so,” he said. “I cannot deny you’ve chosen to walk a difficult path, my friend, but you won’t walk it alone.”

Anakin shook his head. “They should have kicked me out of the Order. I was so _ready_ for them to kick me out of the Order.”

Obi-Wan stood and lifted Luke's carrier. "Now how would that have looked," he chided Anakin gently, "if we kicked out someone so instrumental to Darth Sidious's defeat?"

Anakin's mouth tightened as he took Leia. He hadn't said much to Obi-Wan about the incident in the Chancellor's office. Still, Obi-Wan had pieced together the basics from the remnants of security footage and what little Anakin _had_ said.

As far as Obi-Wan knew, Anakin had reported that he suspected the Chancellor as Darth Sidious. He had then accompanied the team who went to make the arrest but had been unable to draw his weapon on his former friend. So yes, he _had_ been instrumental in Sidious’s defeat… from a certain point of view.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Never mind that now. Come along, I already let Master Riparé know we’re on our way.”

“Master Riparé?” Anakin asked. “We’re going to the crèche?”

“Where else would be more appropriate for these little ones?” Obi-Wan said with a fond glance down at Luke. “Besides, Master Riparé took several blaster bolts to the spine while protecting the little ones during the attack on the Temple. She suffered some terrible nerve damage, and we’re not sure if it’s ever going to heal completely. With Yoda gone… she’ll appreciate the help.”

“Of– Of course, Master.”

They walked through the Temple in silence; even Luke and Leia were quiet in their bassinets. Obi-Wan occasionally greeted the Jedi they passed, but Anakin shrank more and more into himself with each person they came across. While some greeted Anakin with the same polite kindness they showed Obi-Wan, others just stared. A handful did both.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and simply gave them a _look_ until they decided they’d best be on their way.

When they finally reached the crèche, Obi-Wan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Master Riparé,” he called out as he and Anakin stepped inside, “we’re here.”

A moment later, Mitera Riparé hovered out into the main room. She was an older Umbaran woman, mostly bald save for a shock of white hair on the top of her head that she kept pulled back in a white bun. Although she had been at the Temple for as long as Obi-Wan could remember, since she became the Crèchemaster, it was rare to see her outside the crèche.

“Master Kenobi. Master Skywalker. How good of you to come by.” She greeted them with a dip of her head, and then her colorless gaze fell to the bassinets. Her tone lost all formality as she cooed at the twins. “And who do we have here?”

When Anakin didn’t reply, Obi-Wan nudged him. 

“Um,” Anakin said, shooting a brief glare at Obi-Wan, “This is Leia, and Obi-Wan has Luke. They’re, um. They’re… my children?”

When Master Riparé looked up, there was no judgement in her eyes, just a broad smile upon her pale face. "Oh, how wonderful," she said, pulling her fluffy shadowcloak tighter around her frail shoulders. "Yes, I'd heard the rumors. I was hoping I'd get the chance to meet them. Is the senator well?"

“V– Very well,” Anakin said. He was quite obviously taken aback, and Obi-Wan knew he’d done the right thing by bringing his former Padawan here. “She’s already returned to the Senate.”

"Ah, yes, that nasty business with the Chancellor, huh? No worries, hun. We'll move past it. We always do. Now, if you'll follow me?"

Not ten minutes later, Obi-Wan and Anakin found themselves sitting on the floor of the lower crèche, where children who came to them less than a year old were cared for. There weren’t many children here– most came to them as toddlers. Still, having someone else here to watch over them for an afternoon took some weight off Master Riparé’s shoulders.

Now, if only Obi-Wan could help Anakin take some weight off his.

"She called me 'Master,'" Anakin said hollowly after nearly half an hour, gazing at Luke as Luke squirmed on his mat. "Why? I'm not–” He broke off. 

Obi-Wan sighed. How should he play this? The guilt he felt at keeping secrets from Anakin ate at him. Perhaps… perhaps he should just tell him. “You _were_ on the Council,” he reminded Anakin.

Anakin scoffed. “Yeah, but nobody really _wanted_ me there,” he said bitterly. “Except for the Chancellor– no– Sidious, and that’s only because he wanted me to spy on the Jedi.”

“Well, I wanted you there,” Obi-Wan said, “but I agree. It was unfair of the Council to put you in such a position.”

It was quite the opposite of what he’d said to Plo just a few days ago, but there was truth behind his words. Anakin hadn’t been ready for a Mastership or a position on the Council, but it had been unfair of the Council to grant him one but not the other.

Anakin shrugged. "It's… whatever. I didn't deserve the position, anyway. The Council is supposed to be the best, and I'm…"

“You’re?”

“I’m a failure of a Jedi! Okay, Obi-Wan? I broke the Code! I got married! My Padawan left the Order! I couldn’t fight the Sith Lord! I have children! I’ve done _everything_ a Jedi shouldn’t do!” He was practically yelling by the end of his tirade, and Leia burst into tears. Luke, closely attenuated to both his sister’s and his father’s emotions, started crying too.

Anakin’s face crumpled. He reached out to comfort his children. “Shh, shh. It’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s okay.” To Obi-Wan, he said, “I– I don’t know why I’m still here.”

Obi-Wan took Leia and rocked her in his arms. “Do you want to still be here?”

“Of course, I do!” Anakin exclaimed. “This is my home! This is where I belong!”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Obi-Wan said gently. “Anakin, no one would fault you if you wanted to leave the Order to just be with your family.”

Anakin shook his head, his long curls obscuring his face. “No. I want to be here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re… you’re family, Obi-Wan. But… I want to be with my children and Padmé, too, and I’m afraid–”

He fell silent. 

“You’re afraid, what?” Obi-Wan prompted.

“That I can’t have both,” Anakin admitted. “I haven’t been kicked out of the Order yet, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be.” 

Obi-Wan sighed and silently apologized to Plo. “You won’t be kicked out.”

Anakin met his eyes, disbelief written across his face. “How can you be so certain?” His eyes narrowed. “The Council’s been talking about me, haven’t they?”

“Yes, we have,” Obi-wan admitted, setting Leia back down on her mat. He held up a hand to forestall Anakin’s protests. “Your name has come up as a potential nomination to the Council– officially, this time.”

“What? No. Obi-Wan, you didn’t need to do that. You shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t. Master Fisto was the one who made the initial suggestion.”

“But you said–”

“Yes, I did. But I didn’t put your name forward for two reasons. The first was that I did not want the others to accuse me of favoritism. The second was that I would not want you to think you were only nominated because I asked.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t need to know whether or not you’ll accept now,” Obi-Wan assured him, “but I didn’t want it to be a surprise. Talk to Padmé. Talk to Ahsoka. Figure out what it is you _really_ want. Just know I’ll support you in whatever decision you make.”

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin said. When Obi-Wan looked over, he saw the barest hint of a smile on Anakin’s face for the first time since they’d left Padmé’s apartment.

He’d take it.

* * *

Ahsoka had never realized– or at least never appreciated– the amount of back-end administrative flimsiwork Anakin and Master Obi-Wan did as generals. In the days since she’d taken command of the 501st, she’d done more paperwork than she’d ever done before in her life. Requisitions, company rosters, ammunition inventory, promotion records… if there was a form that could be filed, she’d filed it.

Rex and the others helped her where they could, but ultimately her signature was the one required on the lines.

She still felt mildly guilty about kicking Anakin off the _Adamant_ that morning. She knew her former master was going stir-crazy in Padmé’s apartments. Unfortunately, she couldn't get her flimsiwork done with him hovering over her shoulder. He was just trying to help. She knew that. But it also wasn't long before he started driving _her_ crazy.

So, when Anakin commed her that afternoon, asking if she’d like to spar in one of the Temple’s training salles, she jumped at the invitation. After all, it wasn’t like she _enjoyed_ the flimsiwork.

Walking through the Temple was less unsettling in the daytime than it had been the night she snuck in to meditate. Still, there was something about it that felt wrong, and Ahsoka couldn't put her finger on what it was.

Was it the scorch marks left from lightsabers and blasters alike?

Was it the fact that the Temple was far emptier than it ever used to be?

Was it just because she was no longer a Jedi?

She didn’t know, but it wasn’t something she wanted to spend her time figuring out. It didn’t matter. Either she would feel more comfortable in time, or she wouldn’t.

Anakin was already in the training salle when Ahsoka got there. Ahsoka stood in the doorway for a minute and watched as he moved through a series of katas. His lightsaber burned blue, a perfect match to the sabers that hung at her waist. She could never miss her green and yellow blades, not when the blue was a testament to how much her former master cared for her even now.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said as he finished the kata and deactivated his blade. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Ahsoka said with a scoff, pushing off the wall. “I said I would. Besides, Rex and I both really needed a break from the flimsiwork.”

She’d told Rex time and time again that he didn’t need to sit with her for hours on end in the office. As commander, he surely had better things to be doing with his time, even if she appreciated both the help and the company. Every time she brought it up, though, he shrugged her off.

If nothing else, sparring would help her work out the fluttery jitters Rex’s insistence on staying had left her with. She needed them gone.

“Poor Rex,” Anakin said with a smile and a shake of his head. “You know, I should’ve had _you_ helping me with the flimsis all these years. It’s the commander’s responsibility, but, well…”

Ahsoka grinned. "But I was fourteen, and it was impossible to get me to sit still and do my Padawan work, let alone flimsiwork? Yeah, I know."

“Yeah, something like that. Take some time to warm up, Snips. You’ll be stiff as a board if you’ve been sitting all morning.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and sank into the first steps of a basic unarmed warmup kata. “How are the twins this afternoon?”

“They’re doing great,” Anakin said. “Lift your elbow a little, there. They’re still with Obi-Wan and Master Riparé.”

Ahsoka lifted her elbow. “You actually let them out of your sight?” she asked. “I’m impressed.”

"Oh, shut it. You know they'll get into even less trouble with Obi-Wan around than they would with me."

“Yeah, that’s Master Kenobi, all right.” Grabbing her lightsabers from her belt, Ahsoka ignited them swiftly and moved into a new series of katas.

They settled into companionable silence as Ahsoka warmed up. Anakin occasionally offered mild critiques of her form, which Ahsoka took to heart. She could still remember working through these katas in the early days of her apprenticeship. Back then, it seemed like Anakin had something to say about everything she did.

If she finished with a flashier sequence just to show off, well. Anakin couldn’t mention it without being a hypocrite.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said, adjusting her sabers’ power settings before sinking into a ready stance. “Bring it.”

Anakin smirked. “You asked for it.”

Two heartbeats followed before Ahsoka launched herself at her former master, her twin blades crashing against his parry. Anakin disengaged quickly, pushing her slighter frame back just enough that he could whirl out of reach before blocking her next strike.

He was playing her, she knew. He would stand on the defensive until she wore herself out, and then he’d turn the tables. It was a pattern she’d grown incredibly familiar with over the years.

They traded blows back and forth. Both were skilled duelists, and thus the match dragged on. Although they’d sparred a couple times in the weeks Ahsoka had been on Naboo, they hadn’t yet had an opportunity to go all-out with each other. Until now.

Ahsoka knew she was at a disadvantage. She’d been without her lightsabers for over a year, after all. She had substituted batons for her blades during the months she and Fives spent training with Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls, but they didn’t handle the same. A lightsaber’s blade had no mass, leaving all the weight in the hilt.

Despite the disadvantage, though, Ahsoka felt almost… _bored_. She immediately felt guilty for the thought, even as she parried Anakin’s overhead strike with one saber and swung the other around toward his side. He leapt out of the way. She supposed that any lightsaber duel might feel underwhelming after the four-bladed life-or-death scramble she’d fought with Darth Maul.

And won.

Still, that wasn't entirely it. Ahsoka felt something was wrong the first time she landed a tap on Anakin's shoulder. She _knew_ something was wrong when she landed a second tap on his side. While her training duels with Anakin had never been particularly hair-raising (for all she didn't have hair), she had never won two hits against him in a single match. Let alone two in a row.

“What’s up, Skyguy?” she asked over crossed, sparking lightsabers. The blue glow illuminated the underside of Anakin’s face. “You seem distracted.”

Anakin pushed her off, and Ahsoka turned the momentum into a backflip as she sprung away. “It’s nothing,” he said. When she pursed her lips and looked at him doubtfully, he amended his statement. “Nothing bad, at least. Just something Obi-Wan said earlier.”

Ahsoka let herself breathe at the admission. Not long ago, Anakin wouldn’t have explained further without some heavy prodding. Still, if whatever Master Obi-Wan said had rattled Anakin to the point of distraction in saber training, she couldn’t just let it stand.

Deactivating her lightsabers, Ahsoka rose from her battle stance. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Anakin shook his head. “It’s silly,” he said.

“No, it’s not,” Ahsoka said, hanging her lightsabers back on her belt. “Not if it’s bothering you.”

Anakin also put away his saber, then dropped down to sit on the salle floor. Ahsoka watched him with no small amount of alarm and crossed the room to sit beside him. “Anakin?”

Anakin surveyed her face for a long moment before looking away. Grabbing his lightsaber again, he turned it over in his hands. “Ahsoka…” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Would you… consider rejoining the Order? Have you considered it?”

Ah. This was going to be _that_ conversation. She’d known it was coming. In fact, she had expected it sooner, but she supposed he was busy with his newborn children while they were on Naboo. Unfortunately, knowing a conversation was coming didn’t make having that conversation any easier.

Ahsoka blanched as she remembered her last exchange with Master Windu before… before everything. She’d been trying not to dwell too hard about how she left things with the Jedi Master and the rest of the Council, thinking there would be time to resolve everything in due course.

“I’ve considered it,” she admitted. “But… no. Not yet, at least.”

“But you’re considering coming back eventually?” Anakin asked, an eagerness to his voice she didn’t quite know how to interpret. “Even after how they– _we_ – wronged you?”

Ahsoka sighed as she struggled to collect her thoughts. It was her turn to look away from Anakin’s searching gaze, choosing instead to pick at the hem of her skirt. Upon her return to Coruscant, she’d begun wearing outfits more like the ones she’d worn throughout the war. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, just… an instinct.

At long last, she spoke. “You have to understand. For the first fourteen years of my life, all I knew was the Jedi.” Never mind the fact she’d been brought to the Temple when she was three. She didn’t remember much from before then. “But ever since I became a Padawan, all I’ve been is a soldier. The Temple doesn’t feel like home anymore, not like it used to. Not like the barracks or the Star Destroyers do now.”

When she looked up at Anakin, he stared back at her, aghast. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried–”

Ahsoka didn’t let him finish the sentence. There was no way he _could_ finish the sentence. “I know,” she said. “I don’t regret any of it. I don’t wish any of it had been different. But the fact is… I’m a soldier, not a Jedi. My place isn’t _here_ anymore."

The Jedi Order had lost its way, just as Barriss had said over a year before. She couldn't, in good conscience, return until the war was well and truly over and the Jedi were once again the peacekeepers they were supposed to be. Even then... would she want to? Could she be happy here?

_Barriss_. Speaking of her old friend, Ahsoka would have to ask someone who wasn't Anakin about what became of her. 

Anakin opened his mouth several times to say something, just to close it again. Ahsoka wondered what he was thinking. He had never taken her departure particularly well, and here she was saying she no longer belonged with the Jedi. Despite the mild anxiety clawing at her chest, she waited patiently. Several long minutes later, he spoke. 

“Obi-Wan says the Council is talking about nominating me for one of the open seats.”

Ahsoka’s anxiety dissipated within seconds. “Really? That’s incredible! Congratulations!”

“Yeah, well.” Anakin shrugged a single shoulder. “I… I haven’t told you, have I? That I was on the Council, briefly, while you were on Mandalore?”

“I–” What? Why hadn’t Master Obi-Wan mentioned this to her in his transmission before he left for Utapau? Why hadn't Master Yoda or Master Windu said anything to her? "No, you didn't."

It was a rather short story, but Ahsoka listened in rapt fascination. As Anakin laid it out to her, she felt her old ire at the Council resurface even stronger than before. Perhaps she wasn’t cold _enough_ to Master Windu the last time they spoke.

“I didn’t… understand, at the time, when you turned down the Council’s invitation to rejoin the Order,” Anakin admitted. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I think… I think I understand now.”

Oh.

It was an apology she never expected, nor one she thought she needed, but it sat warm in her chest all the same. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Maybe… maybe she _had_ needed it.

“You don’t know whether or not you should accept the Council position, after how they wronged you.”

“Would you?”

Ahsoka forced a sad smile. “I walked away,” she said, looking out across the salle, “but you don’t have to. What do you want?”

Anakin didn’t answer. 

When it became evident that he _wouldn’t_ answer, Ahsoka thought long and hard about her next words. She chuckled as an errant thought drifted through her mind.

“What?” Anakin asked.

She shook her head. “Look at the pair of us,” she said wryly. “Master and apprentice, both scorned by the Council. It’s just funny, is all.”

Anakin smiled. “You know, Obi-Wan left the Order for a while back when he was a Padawan, the Council wasn’t fond of Master Qui-Gon, and Count Dooku became… well, Count Dooku. Our entire lineage is cursed.”

Ahsoka stared at Anakin in shock. “ _Master Obi-Wan_ left the Order? No way!”

“It’s true. You can ask him about it.”

She would have to. But that revelation aside, she tried to remember what she’d been getting at in the first place. Her finger traced patterns against the salle floor.

“I’ve been talking to Master Obi-Wan, actually. He says… he says the Council knows the Order needs to change, going forward. He says the old traditions blinded them to everything that was happening. If that’s true, and it does change… then I may consider rejoining.”

She met Anakin’s eyes squarely. “I know the old Council hurt us both, but most of them aren’t here anymore. I think it would be good if there’s a non-traditional Jedi on the new Council to help push them in a different direction.”

When Anakin didn’t look away, she squirmed beneath his regard. “What?”

“When did you get to be so wise?” Anakin asked with a rueful smile.

“Must have been sometime after I left you,” Ahsoka said flippantly, climbing to her feet. “There isn’t a wise bone in your body.”

“Hey!” Anakin cried, scrambling after her. “Take that back! Snips!”

Ahsoka ran out of the salle, Anakin hot on her heels. Their laughter echoed through the halls, and the Temple grew all the brighter for it.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time Anakin returned to Padmé’s apartments. He could only recall the day’s events in a haze, a long blur of time spent with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Master Riparé, and his children. The weight of the stress he felt that morning still lay heavy in his bones, but his head was far clearer than it had been just a few hours earlier.

In fact, so much had transpired that, upon walking into the kitchen, Anakin stepped absently onto a loose spring.

He bit back a pained curse. He'd completely forgotten about the toaster Obi-Wan had found him tearing apart that morning. It was precisely where he left it: deconstructed, reduced to pieces strewn across the floor. Padmé wouldn’t be happy if she came home to the mess– at least, until she realized just how stressed Anakin must have been. It was best to avoid that conversation entirely. With the twins sleeping peacefully in the guest room that had been converted to a nursery, Anakin sat down amidst the fragments and began the task of putting them back together.

The sun was long gone by the time Padmé returned. The sound of the door spurred him into action. Jumping to his feet, he slid the unassuming toaster back into its place and ran out to greet her.

“Angel!” he exclaimed. “How was your… day.”

His spirits fell at the sight of his wife. Not because he was disappointed to see her, but because the answer to his question was evident on her face. She had that furrow in her brow that she only got after particularly difficult days in the Senate chamber.

She offered him a weak smile all the same. “Not… good, Ani,” she said, telling him what he already knew. She sighed as she walked past him to collapse on the couch. “How was your day? How are the children?”

“They’re asleep, praise the stars,” Anakin said with a half-hearted laugh. “It was a big day for them. Obi-Wan came by this morning and brought us all to the crèche in the Jedi Temple. I don’t think they’re used to feeling so many other Force signatures.”

He sat down beside Padmé and pulled her close with his organic arm. Despite how well the day turned out, he couldn’t think about it for long without an accompanying wave of anxiety, and it helped to have his wife near. “Obi-Wan also said that I’m a… a potential nominee for the Council, I guess.”

“Ani, that’s wonderful!” Padmé beamed up at him, and Anakin felt warm knowing he made her smile. A more contemplative look crossed her face a moment later. “Are you going to accept? I know it’s something you’ve wanted.”

“I’m… not sure yet,” Anakin said. “I talked with Ahsoka about it earlier after sparring in the training salles, but I still need to think about it. And it’s still not definite, anyway. But… maybe. If we’re not too busy with the kids.” He nudged her gently, feeling incredibly ready to drop the topic. He had already talked about it more than enough today. “Now, tell me about your day. What happened?”

Padmé flexed her hands in her lap and sighed. “They kicked me off the jury for Palpatine’s trial.”

It was no secret that Anakin had been keeping up with the trial proceedings almost obsessively. They'd brought in some hotshot juror from Mandalore to preside over the trial and cast her vote in the case of a hung jury. They were still in the middle of picking senators to serve as jurors. With thousands of systems represented, and most possessing strong feelings one way or the other about the Chancellor, the process was shaping up to be a long one.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how much this case means to you.”

“It’s… fine,” Padmé said in a voice that indicated it was not, in fact, _fine._ “I’m just… frustrated.”

“I know the feeling.” Anakin sighed. “I still can’t believe the Jedi aren’t being allowed to testify. He _told me_ he was a Sith Lord. I… I _watched_ him kill…” His voice, which had been increasing in volume, trailed off into silence. He didn’t need to say it. They both knew what happened. He ran his left hand through his hair absently. “I feel helpless, too,” he finally said. “I don’t like sitting around and waiting.”

Padmé smiled. “ _My_ Ani, sitting around and waiting?” she asked with a giggle. “Say it isn’t so.”

Anakin cast her a glare, but it was more fond than annoyed. “I guess we’re both kinda stuck, aren’t we?” He spoke lightheartedly, but a dark look crossed Padmé’s face at his words. “That’s… not all, is it?”

Padmé looked up at him, and indecipherable light in her warm brown eyes. “No,” she said, her gaze skittering away from his. “It’s not.”

“Padmé– Angel– what–?”

“The Crown sent me a missive today. Queen Apailana asked me to step down as senator when my term is up.”

“What?” Anakin cried, scooting away from Padmé so he could see her better. “She can’t do that, can she?”

Padmé nodded solemnly. “She can. If the Crown feels a representative has acted in such a way as to tarnish Naboo’s reputation, it has every right to request the representative to step down.”

“But surely they can’t _force_ you.”

“No, they can’t, but… Ani, we’ve known from the beginning that this, our relationship, our _marriage_ , would jeopardize both our careers. At any other time, it would be a huge scandal. The only reason we're not getting lambasted in the holonews is that there are so many other, bigger things for people to focus on right now."

“The trial,” Anakin said. “And the… the Jedi…”

“Yes. Exactly. When that’s over, there will be nothing protecting us.”

A rush of overwhelming guilt threatened to crash down upon him. “I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” Padmé said, cutting him off. “I knew the risks from the beginning, and I’m prepared to give up my career for my family. There is nothing more important to me than you, Luke, and Leia.”

Anakin laughed nervously and ran his left hand down his face. “Now I feel like a laserbrain, saying I'm a potential Council nominee when you're about to lose your seat in the Senate."

“Stop it,” Padmé said. “That’s wonderful news, and I couldn’t be happier for you. Besides, I haven’t lost my seat yet. I… haven’t decided yet whether or not I’ll actually step down.”

“You would really consider stepping down?”

Padmé shrugged. “It would give me more time to spend with the children. Besides… I was the one who put Palpatine in power in the first place. Maybe I _should_ step down.”

Unfortunately, Anakin knew there was very little he could do to change Padmé’s mind once she'd decided something. He had also learned the hard way that he couldn't make her decisions for her. That didn't stop him from wishing he could. Padmé _couldn’t_ step down from the Senate, not when there was so much work to be done.

“You know I’ll support you,” he said, forcing the words past his lips. “No matter what you decide.”

“I know, Ani. For now… just hold me, please?”

“Always,” Anakin said. That, he could promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I post and reblog things related to this fic on my (Karma's) tumblr! [Take a look!](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/tagged/aimitf)


	6. Opening Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka visits an old friend and gets lunch with Obi-Wan. Rex has an existential crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two week turnaround on this fic? Wow! Don't get used to it...
> 
> We commissioned [@bladelei](https://bladelei.tumblr.com/) to draw the scene of Fives and Echo from Chapter 3! [Check it out](https://bladelei.tumblr.com/post/617558938967277568/fives-dead-idk-what-youre-talkin-bout-but-a)!
> 
> Edit: Happy 15th anniversary of ROTS, I guess? We had no idea that was today when we posted.
> 
> \- Karma
> 
> I'm gonna start adding notes too! We're super excited about the trial- it isn't even the focus of this fic but I'm getting carried away. Get fucked Sheev!
> 
> \- Ghostly
> 
>   
> **TW: references to/discussion of suicide** (unrelated to Rex's existential crisis)

**15.04.33 (13 months ago) ** **  
11 months before Order 66  
Level 1313, Coruscant  
2200h**

“Hey! Ahsoka! This way!”

Ahsoka ran after Nyx as he darted around a corner, her hands drifting to her blasters to check that she had set them to stun. Proprietors were gracious to those who returned their property from petty thieves, and the local law enforcement turned a blind eye to vigilantism, but murder was still murder.

She had initially been hesitant to join Nyx on his nighttime escapades. Having just left the Jedi, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than she had to. Besides, vigilantism was technically illegal, and it didn’t sit quite right with her.

In the end, she’d held out for almost a week before she’d gotten _bored._ Civilian life was boring, especially after the three years she’d spent on the front lines of the war. As much as she loved working on the ships and speeders that came through Nyx’s shop, it wasn’t long before she got antsy and accepted Nyx’s invitation to join him.

So here she was, chasing some petty thief down the back alleys of the Coruscanti underworld with her sort-of boyfriend.

Sort of.

They hadn’t actually talked about it. Ahsoka knew Nyx wanted to talk about it, but she dodged the topic every time it came up. How could she explain the spark she'd felt until the moment they first kissed had ebbed away to near-nothingness? It was comfortable, but something in the Force told her it wouldn't last. After all, she wasn't planning on staying on Coruscant forever.

She'd already poured the last of her GAR credits into a ship and the subsequent docking fees.

“Ahsoka, Come on! He– _Kriff_ –”

At the very least, now was not the time to worry about it. Ahsoka followed Nyx into the alley, her pistols drawn, just in time to see the Rodian they were chasing knock Nyx’s blaster out of his hands. The two scuffled, and when Ahsoka finally got a clear sight of the target, she put him down with a single stunbolt.

Nyx jumped to his feet, dusting his hands together as he turned to the Rodian’s prone form. “Nice one, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka shrugged and holstered her weapons. “Do you need help with that?” she asked as Nyx lifted the man’s body onto his shoulders.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”

He leaned in to kiss her as he passed, which she thought was a little ridiculous given the unconscious body he was carrying, but she kissed him anyway. Sure. Why not?

Nyx grinned as he pulled away. “Come on, we should get this one turned in before he wakes up.”

“Right,” Ahsoka said. With a sweeping gesture, she added, “After you.”

They were nearly back to the speeder when Ahsoka noticed her commlink flashing. Nyx was standing right in front of her, so it couldn't be him contacting her. She considered letting it blink out– Nyx still didn't know who she was before– but she paused. Nobody tried to reach her via live comm anymore without scheduling it first.

Distantly, the Force screamed.

“Ahsoka?”

Ahsoka realized she'd stopped in her tracks. Nyx gazed back at her from a few paces ahead, a questioning look in his eyes. Carefully, she shifted to hide her commlink.

“Um,” she stated eloquently, “I think I heard something in that alley there. I’m going to check it out.”

“Oh. Okay,” Nyx said. “Do you want me to wait?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “You need to get that one turned in. Go on, I’ll meet you back home.”

She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she turned on her heel and booked it for a nearby alley, opening the line as soon as she was out of sight and earshot. She felt guilty, hiding this from Nyx, but she’d apologise later. Maybe it was time she finally told him the truth. He deserved that much, at least.

For now, she pushed the thought aside. "Ahsoka, here."

“Ahsoka. Glad you picked up. It’s Rex.” There was no holo to the call, just audio. Still, Ahsoka didn't need a visual to identify the palpable relief in Rex's voice.

“Rex? What’s… wrong? You sound awful.”

“It’s Fives,” Rex said. “I need your help.”

Ahsoka listened in horrified fascination as Rex briefed her on the situation. Her spine straightened as she stood, three years of military conduct sinking back into her bones. Her mind raced as she formed her first battle plan in months.

"Sector I-9… that's not far from me," she said. Nyx had the speeder, but it wouldn't be hard for her to get her hands on another. She could probably reach Fives's coordinates before the GAR could.

She started moving.

“I don’t know what we’re expecting,” Rex said, “but I have a bad feeling about this. I’d feel a lot better if I knew we had you watching our six. If anything goes wrong, I need you to get Fives out. That’s our top priority.”

“You don’t think we can trust the Republic with this,” Ahsoka said. It wasn’t a question.

Ah. That speeder would do.

“I wish I did, but... I trust Fives, and Fives doesn’t trust the Republic, for whatever reason. And Ahsoka…” Rex paused. “This is too similar to what happened to you. I don’t like it.”

Warmth swelled in Ahsoka’s chest as the speeder roared to life beneath her hands. She hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t like it, either. Don’t worry, Rex. He’ll be fine. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, Ahsoka. Um. May the Force be with you.”

“You too, Rex. Good luck.”

With that, Ahsoka killed the line and kicked off. As she sped toward sector I-9, she realized there was a genuine possibility she may not meet Nyx back at the shop, after all.

She only hoped he could forgive her.

* * *

“Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished lifeforms of the Republic. We are gathered here today for an event unprecedented in galactic history. For the past three years, the Republic has been swept up in the Clone Wars, an intergalactic conflict that has left few systems unaffected. There is ample evidence to suggest that this conflict was orchestrated by the very man we elected our leader: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of Naboo.

“Chancellor Palpatine assumed emergency powers when the war began, and used that power to stay in office long past the end of his term. To make matters even more dire, there are allegations that Chancellor Palpatine was, in fact, a Sith Lord: Darth Sidious. While this may sound like a far-fetched claim, it is backed up by holofootage and direct witness testimony; however, for the sake of the Senate, the focus of this trial will be the trail of corruption this man left behind.…”

* * *

**16.08.07 (Present Day)  
** **2.5 months after Order 66  
Jedi Temple Detention Block  
1030h**

For someone who wasn’t a Jedi, Ahsoka was spending quite a bit of time at the Temple. Today, she followed Master Obi-Wan down a corridor that she'd never seen before, deep within the heart of the Temple. He slowed as they approached a door flanked by two Temple Guards.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said, “Are you quite sure about this? After what she did… you don’t owe her anything.”

Ahsoka sighed. Obi-Wan had been remarkably agreeable when she asked if he would let her into the Temple’s detention block to talk to Barriss. Still, she had been expecting him to say something about it. Anakin certainly had. Her former master was vehemently against her talking to her old friend.

His words still rang in her head. _“She would have gotten you killed, Ahsoka!”_

She knew. Stars, it was hard to _forget_.

Master Obi-Wan, at least, had waited until they were standing outside the entrance. He wasn’t planning to stop her.

"I think I need to do this, Master," Ahsoka said. "For myself, at the very least." Her voice didn't shake as she spoke, much to her relief. For the first time since she'd had the idea, she felt confident in her decision.

Obi-Wan searched her face for a long moment. He must have found whatever it was he was looking for because he nodded. “I understand,” he said, keying in his code to open the door. “I’ll wait here for your return. The Temple Guards will show you inside.”

Ahsoka gave him a small smile. “Thanks,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

He smiled back and crossed his arms. “In my experience–”

“There’s no such thing as luck,” Ahsoka finished. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Ahsoka turned away from Obi-Wan and stepped into the detention block. She’d never been here, but its existence wasn’t a secret. As younglings, they learned about the history of the Jedi and the Sith and the stories of those who had been held in the Temple itself. Until recently, however, the detention block had been more a thing of legend than of fact. There hadn’t been any need for it in hundreds of years.

It was cold.

And dark.

The door slammed shut behind her, and she shivered. Master Obi-Wan had warned her of the Force-nullification field; however, it was hardly the same as feeling it firsthand. The sensation strongly reminded her of the months she couldn't connect with the Force after Order 66, but worse.

To Jedi and Sith alike, Force-sensitivity was like an additional limb. It was cruel to deprive one of their connection, especially combined with the further isolation of prison itself, but Ahsoka saw its necessity. How many times had she broken out of various cells using the Force?

Too many, really.

The two guards lead the way, their yellow saber-staffs casting a sickly glow over their blank masks and the hallway. Unlike the part of the Temple Ahsoka was familiar with, the hall was stone, not duracrete or durasteel. This was part of the Old Temple. In the emptiness of the Force, Ahsoka could almost feel the echoes of past prisoners.

Perhaps the nullification of the Force here was merciful, after all.

It took longer than Ahsoka expected to reach the occupied wing of the detention block. There were only two prisoners here, both of whom she knew intimately. A wave of guilt washed over her. There should have been a third.

Count Dooku paced slowly in his cell, but he made even pacing appear regal. Despite being imprisoned with the Force ripped away from him, Ahsoka realized he was far more imposing in person than he was in the holos. He acknowledged her with a nod as she passed, and she nodded back almost without thinking about it.

She mentally berated herself after the fact. Really? This was _Count Dooku_. This was the man who was almost single-handedly responsible for the atrocities committed by the Separatists. He didn’t deserve her respect or her recognition.

But… Dooku, too, had been manipulated by Sidious. As she passed his cell, Maul's words came back to her unbidden. Dooku would have been cast aside for Anakin, had Sidious had his way.

This time, it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver.

But that wasn’t what she was here for. She was here for… Barriss.

Oh, _Barriss_.

Ahsoka’s heart broke at the sight of her old friend. She had seen Barriss in this position countless times. Sitting cross-legged on the ground with her eyes closed and her hands resting gently upon her knees, Barriss appeared to be lost in meditation. In many ways, she was the same as Ahsoka remembered her. Her hair was still covered. The same diamonds adorned her olive skin. Her expression gave away almost nothing, but upon a closer look, Ahsoka noticed the stress lines between her brows that indicated her unease.

Was meditation even possible down here?

She dared not ask.

Now, although Ahsoka was intimately familiar with the insides of containment cells, she was no stranger to being the one _outside_ the cell, either. Her position as a Jedi commander, then general, in the Clone Wars made sure of that. Dooku pacing his cell nearby felt _right_ , in a way. She had never seen him imprisoned before, but he looked like he belonged there. He deserved to be there, and she took a certain sense of satisfaction from that.

She felt no such thing as she looked down at Barriss Offee.

Ahsoka was accustomed to seeing Barriss in her full getup, or at least most of it. The Mirialan people were known for their traditions. It felt almost intrusive to gaze upon her without the hood covering her hair wrap – although she wore a headscarf in its place – or the long skirt over her black trousers. But even with a layer removed, Ahsoka realized she still couldn't tell who lived beneath the skin.

“Hello, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka nearly jumped. “Hey, Barriss.” Taking a deep breath, she sat on the floor in front of the ray-shielded cell. Despite the compulsion she'd felt to talk to Barriss, she’d never quite thought about how she would _start_ this conversation. “It’s… been too long.”

She winced at her own words.

“What is the reason for your visit?” Barriss asked, discarding niceties entirely.

Ahsoka knew she shouldn’t let it get to her, but the abruptness of the question still hurt. “I, uh…” She scrambled for words. “Has anyone told you what happened?”

Barriss raised her brows, though she didn't open her eyes. "I've heard rumors." Her tone didn't necessarily invite Ahsoka to continue, but it didn't indicate she was unwilling to listen.

Ahsoka sighed, then forged on. “It would take too long to explain it all, but–” She paused to gather what remained of her pride. “I can tell you– no, I wanted to tell you that… you were right.”

Her words hung heavy in the silence between them. It felt like an eternity passed before Barriss spoke.

“How so?”

The two words lacked some of the sharpness that had been there previously, but Ahsoka knew better than to take it as a sure sign.

“Where do I even begin?” Ahsoka spoke in barely more than a whisper. She’d run through this conversation in her head time and time again the night before, but now that she was here, she'd forgotten it all.

She still remembered, nearly word-for-word, what Barriss said at the trial. There had been times she wished she could forget, but she couldn't. It was permanently ingrained in her memory.

"What you said about the Jedi back then, I… I didn't want to believe it. I thought you had Fallen, and that your senses were clouded by the Dark Side. But that wasn't true, was it? You saw everything clear as day. Once I left the Order, I started to realize that."

Ahsoka had closed her eyes as she spoke to better focus on what she was saying. If she lost her train of thought now, she didn't think she would be able to recover it. She opened them again as she finished, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Barriss staring back at her with an unreadable expression.

She glanced away. “We were, quite literally, an army fighting for the Dark Side. The Chancellor is on trial for high treason. We never knew much about Dooku’s master, Darth Sidious–” She glanced askance at Dooku as she mentioned him. He wasn’t looking at them, but she knew he was listening. “It was the kriffing _Chancellor_ , Barriss. He’s been accused of orchestrating the entire war.”

It was easier to explain Palpatine than Order 66. Ahsoka didn't know if she would ever fully get over the pain she felt from that loss. From knowing millions of men had been stripped of their free will long enough to commit atrocities they never would have otherwise. They were all still recovering, Jedi and clones alike.

Barriss’s silence prompted her to continue. Ahsoka picked at her fingernails as she haltingly explained the basics of Order 66. There was more to tell, but now wasn't the time to say it. Barriss’s betrayal had cut deep, and even now, it still stung. Ahsoka wasn't ready to let her back in entirely – she didn't know if she ever would be – but she could do this much.

Ahsoka had grown so used to the pressing silence that she was taken aback when Barriss spoke.

"I was here when it happened, Ahsoka." She scoffed. "I haven't been anywhere else for a long time. Even through the nullification, I felt it in the Force. The screams. Death. I heard the commotion happening right above me. The sound of blasters, running, yelling… the ground shook like it never has before. And I was alone. I was so close to it all, but there was nothing I could do. I'd never felt farther away."

For the first time since Ahsoka sat down, she recognized the person she was talking to. A myriad of mixed emotions hit her. She felt a strange sense of both comfort and loss, listening to Barriss’s melodic voice. This was Barriss. This was her friend.

“I felt it too, Barris,” she said. “The 501st didn’t turn on me, but I felt it. All the way in hyperspace, en route from Mandalore. It was like I was here, but… you actually were. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

And that was through the nullification field. Ahsoka wondered if Barriss would go through it all again if she ever left the detention block and the full weight of what happened hit her in the Force.

Barriss shifted, bringing her hands together in her lap. “When I did what I did… I did it because I felt helpless,” she confessed. Her delicate features creased in anxiety, but her voice was steady and sure. Her blue eyes were just as piercing as they’d ever been. “The galaxy was changing, and not for the better. When I was offered the chance to seize power, I took it. I _needed_ to. It was eating me up inside, and I thought it was my only option. But…”

She trailed off and shook her head. “When _that_ happened, what I felt couldn't even compare. It was a worse punishment than anything the Senate could give me. I still wish I could see what was happening on the outside. Here, I'm isolated from it all."

Something slotted into place within Ahsoka upon hearing Barriss’s sincere, albeit brief, explanation. She felt a little more whole, as though she’d finally found a piece of herself that had been missing for over a year, but she didn't know what to say in return. She settled on, “Things are changing out there. The Council is rebuilding, and so is the Order. They’re learning from their mistakes, I think.”

_They,_ not _we_.

“I’m… happy to hear that,” Barriss said, though she didn’t sound convinced.

They slipped back into silence. Ahsoka startled when one of the guards tapped her on the shoulder, signaling it was time to go.

Ahsoka stood and gazed down at Barriss. Her old friend had done some terrible things, but they seemed less significant in light of all that had happened since. Ahsoka wouldn't mention them. Barriss didn’t need someone else scolding her.

“Ahsoka,” Barris said, craning her neck to meet Ahsoka's eyes through the ray shield, "will you come to see me again?"

Ahsoka tried to smile, but it felt more sad than reassuring. “Of course, Barriss.”

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka turned to follow the guards out, resolving not to look at Dooku as she passed. When he spoke, however, she couldn’t stop herself.

“You’re Skywalker’s Padawan, aren’t you?”

She slowed to a halt in front of his cell. Despite fighting against Dooku for three years, she had never actually spoken to him. She didn’t really want to start doing so now.

“ _Former_ Padawan,” she corrected icily. She would stare down her nose at the man if he weren’t so blasted tall.

Dooku nodded. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Tano.”

_I wish I could say the same,_ Ahsoka thought, but she bit back the snark. “Likewise, Count.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t get out of the detention block fast enough.

Stepping out of the Force-nullification field was like stepping out onto Naboo after spending months on the _Adamant_. It was warmth and fresh air and further proof that, despite all that had been lost, there was still much that remained.

Master Obi-Wan was waiting for her, as he said he would be. “Did it go well?” he asked.

Ahsoka nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I think it did.”

She thought she handled it well. She had a sense of closure she didn't have before and felt that she could potentially reconcile with her friend. Still, she couldn't deny that the experience had left her a little rattled.

Something must have shown on her face or in her lekku, for Obi-Wan looked her over and hummed. “Did you have plans for this afternoon? I was thinking of going to Dex’s for lunch; I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back on Coruscant. Would you like to join me?”

Ahsoka saw straight through him but agreed anyway. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to Dex’s. “Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”

* * *

“… Chancellor Palpatine stands on trial today for high treason, three counts of murder, and one count of attempted murder. The man will suffer no further punishment from beyond the grave, but it is imperative that we give this case due consideration so that we may understand the truth behind these claims. Members of the Jury, and citizens of the Republic, I ask that you examine the evidence carefully and let it speak for itself.”

\- Prosecuting Attorney Lessa Wynn (h. Ryloth)

_Galactic Republic v. Palpatine_  
Opening Statement given 16.08.07

* * *

The stench of greasy fried food combined with what could just be regular engine grease was a nostalgic one. It threw Ahsoka back to her first year as Anakin's Padawan, when the war wasn't as unforgiving and left more time for shore leave on Coruscant.

Despite the chaotic political climate, Dex’s Diner was as busy– and as loud– as it ever had been. Ahsoka winced as the sharp sound of clattering plates shot through her montrals. She shouldn’t have been surprised. If she had learned one thing in her time away from the Order, it was that the happenings in the Senate chambers and the Jedi Temple had little bearing on the lives of the common populace.

She'd seen it when she was with Nyx. She'd seen it again when she and Fives were with the Nite Owls.

Dex himself was manning the counter when they entered. When he looked up and saw them, he grinned and tossed his rag aside. “Obi-Wan! Ahsoka! Long time no see!” Leaning over the counter, he glanced around as if looking for someone. “Where’s Anakin?”

Ahsoka supposed it _was_ rare to see her and Obi-Wan together without Anakin present. Master Obi-Wan had often joined the two of them at Dex’s when he was on-planet at the same time, but Ahsoka had never been to the diner with just Obi-Wan.

“He’s at home with his wife and children,” Obi-Wan said easily. Ahsoka looked at him in surprise. How long had he been practicing saying that, to make it sound so natural?

Knowing Master Obi-Wan, quite a while. Probably since the twins had been born five weeks ago.

Had it really only been five weeks?

“That’s right,” Dex said. “I’d heard about that. Congratulations to the happy couple! I’ll have to send you home with something for them.” He looked between them before his gaze settled on Ahsoka. “I’m guessing you’ll be wanting a booth back in the corner?”

Ahsoka smiled sheepishly. “That would be great, Dex. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Dex said. “I know them Tog montrals can be sensitive. Go on, I think there’s one empty now. FLO will be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks, Dex,” Obi-Wan said.

Ahsoka slid into the farthest booth from the kitchen and immediately began thumbing through the menu. She always ordered the same thing, but it gave her an excuse to avoid Obi-Wan’s expectant gaze.

“I… don’t know what you want me to say, Master,” she said after FLO came by to take their orders. She idly swished her straw through her glass of water, her other elbow propped against the table and her chin nestled in her palm. “I mean, what Barriss did was wrong, but… she was _right_. Y’know? And I… I don’t regret leaving the Order.” She glanced up at Obi-Wan. “Everything happens for a reason, right? ‘Will of the Force,’ and all that?”

“One could say that,” Master Obi-Wan said slowly, crossing his arms as he leaned back in the booth. “But to owe it all to the will of the Force takes away our agency as living beings. We are all responsible for our own actions.”

“Yeah.” Ahsoka pushed off the table to sit straight. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know it’s hard, but be careful not to harbor a grudge,” Obi-Wan advised.

She shook her head. “No. Don’t worry, I’m not. Not anymore, at least. Barriss was frustrated, and I think Sidious took advantage of that to try to rip me away from Anakin.” _Which worked_ , she didn’t say, _if not exactly the way he intended._ She sighed and stared out the window at Coco Town. “We’re not… friends, anymore. I doubt we ever will be again. But I forgive her.”

Ahsoka practically _felt_ the pride radiating off Master Obi-Wan through the Force. She flushed and ducked her head.

Speaking of harboring a grudge, though… Ahsoka remembered the two occupied cells in the detention block and the absence of a third.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said.

“What for?”

"For letting Maul escape. I know how much capturing him meant to you."

Master Obi-Wan had never been one to speak of his own troubles. Still, Ahsoka had pieced together the stories she heard from Anakin and Bo-Katan. If somebody killed Anakin and… and someone else she cared about, she didn’t think she could ever find it in herself to forgive them.

Across from her, Obi-Wan heaved a sigh and crossed his arms tighter. A haunted look ghosted over his eyes. It was only there for a moment, but Ahsoka knew she would never forget it. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “You made the right decision in returning to Mandalore when Order 66 was given. Coruscant was… chaos, to say the least.”

“But if I hadn’t,” Ahsoka said, planting her chin in her palm again, “the Death Watch wouldn’t have been able to break him out.”

"If you hadn't, you probably would have gotten yourself killed," Obi-Wan countered firmly. "Ahsoka, I am far more grateful to have you here alive with Maul escaped than to have Maul in custody with you dead."

Ahsoka smiled at Obi-Wan’s statement but shrugged as she traced lines in the condensation left by her drink. “I still failed the mission. The one I bullied you and Anakin into allowing.”

“It happens,” Master Obi-Wan said gently. “I think I said in the beginning that capturing Maul would be a long shot, did I not? The Council… Well, it doesn’t matter what the Council would have thought, at this point.”

Ahsoka looked up, the humor gone from her expression. “Yeah. I guess not.”

FLO returned with their orders shortly after, and they fell into silence as they ate. Ahsoka’s attention drifted to the holonews playing in the background. It was broadcasting the opening statements of Palpatine's trial from earlier that morning. The news outlets were in their rerun cycle by this point.

“… were shocked to learn that Count Dooku, the former Separatist leader and current prisoner of the Republic, will be allowed to testify against the late Chancellor Palpatine…”

“I met Count Dooku,” Ahsoka said abruptly, ripping her eyes away from the holo. “He’s… something.”

Master Obi-Wan raised his brows. “That’s one word for it. Did he say something to you?”

Ahsoka shrugged and explained the brief encounter she’d had.

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. “He’s a wily one, Count Dooku. He left the Order shortly after Master Qui-Gon’s death, but it’s hard to see him as my grandmaster these days. You know, he’s technically your…” He trailed off and counted on his fingers. “Great-great-grandmaster?”

Ahsoka scrunched her nose. “That’s too weird to think about.” Glancing up at the holo again, she couldn’t stop her next words from rolling off her tongue. “Is he really gonna testify? He has nothing to gain. He’s _Separatist._ ”

“On the contrary,” Master Obi-Wan said, glancing back at the holo. “He has a lot to gain. The Council has been informed that he has agreed to testify against Palpatine in exchange for release.”

What?

“What? No!” Ahsoka was shocked. After all he did? “How can they agree to that?”

“Count Dooku has been working with Darth Sidious far longer than any of us realized, as far back as the creation of the clone army,” Obi-Wan said gravely. “The prosecution team was willing to give their right arms for his testimony.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and fell back in the booth with a huff. “Why is _he_ allowed to testify when the Jedi Order can’t? When _I_ can’t?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Dooku hasn’t been a member of the Order in thirteen years. If he holds any bias, it should be toward Sidious, but he’s testifying against his former master. You may not be part of the Order, Ahsoka, but you’re still too close.”

She sighed. It wasn’t like anything Maul told her would stand up in court, anyway.

"What happens when Dooku returns to the Separatists and renews the war effort?" she asked. "The Republic is in shambles– this would be the perfect opportunity to strike." Her heart ached for her men. They had caught a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in their unfairly short lives. Would they have that ripped away from them?

Master Obi-Wan stroked his beard. “It would,” he allowed, “but Dooku will no longer have Sidious guiding him, and both sides are tired of the fighting. If the Republic reaches out in peace, I believe an agreement can be reached.”

“Padmé tried that once,” Ahsoka said, thinking of the first time she met Lux and Mina Bonteri. “But… Sithspit! Palpatine knew and had Mina killed! Ugh, that… that… _demagolka!_ ”

Obi-Wan’s brows shot skyward, and Ahsoka remembered she wasn’t the only one at this table fluent in Mando’a. In fact, Obi-Wan’s grasp on the language was far more firm than hers, which was barely a year old.

“Sorry, Master,” she mumbled.

"Oh, you're not wrong," Obi-Wan said. "Actually, I've meant to ask you about your time with Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls. You haven’t said much about it, but knowing Bo, I bet it was an interesting time.”

Ahsoka grinned, her anger and embarrassment melting away. Once, she’d feared Master Obi-Wan – the epitome of what it meant to be a Jedi – would never look at her the same after she left the Order. How glad she was to know she was wrong!

“Yeah, that’s certainly one way to put it,” she said. “So, Fives and I were on Ord Mantell after telling Master Mundi’s battalion about the chips, right? And…”

It had been a long time since she last had the opportunity to sit down and chat with Master Obi-Wan. Between then and now, something had changed, and she couldn't quite identify what it was. Still, as she connected with him over the topic of Mandalore in a way she never had before, she decided it was a change for the better.

* * *

“Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished lifeforms of the Republic. In light of the allegations presented by Attorney Wynn, it is crucial that now, more than ever, we put our faith in democracy. We cannot prosecute a man, no matter what the charges, without providing the appropriate legal defense and exercising due process. In addition, it is our duty to view this case objectively.

“Chancellor Palpatine is not here to speak for himself, and we cannot forget how easy it is to shift blame onto the dead. Should Chancellor Palpatine be cleared of the charges against him, the motives of the Jedi Order – the ones responsible for taking his life in what, under any other circumstances, would be considered a political assassination – will be called into question. Consequently, to prevent any potential bias, members of the Jedi Order will be barred from testifying.…”

* * *

The barracks on Coruscant were of a slightly higher quality than the barracks on the _Adamant,_ but Rex didn't know of a single trooper who preferred them _._ While the Star Destroyers were built to accommodate tens of thousands of troops for months on end, the barracks on Coruscant had been hastily erected at the beginning of the war. They were a little softer, a little cushier, but there was something… sterile about them.

Perhaps it was because battalions cycled through. Rex’s bunk on the _Adamant_ was _his_ bunk. It was one of the very few things he could lay claim to.

“Hey, no fair! Ridge, that’s cheating!”

The sound of laughter drifted through the bottom-floor lounge of Barracks A3, and Rex smiled into his datapad. The 501st and the 212th were assigned to the same building, as they usually were when they were both on-planet at the same time. The camaraderie between the two battalions was infamous– they'd done more maneuvers together than any other two battalions in the GAR.

“Is not!”

It was late afternoon, and Rex sat apart from the others in the lounge, signing off on flimsiwork using his datapad. He felt the need to be productive, but what else was there to do? After weeks removed from the battlefield, his armor was as clean as it had ever been since he first painted it with stripes of 501st blue. He had cleaned his pistols so often they were near factory quality, save for the scratches and discoloration of weapons well-used.

There was just… flimsiwork.

Rex had learned there was a lot of that to be done when a battalion formally switched generals, especially when the new general wasn't technically part of the Jedi Order. Everything had to be routed through the Temple before it was submitted to the GAR.

The extra step was a hassle, but General Skywalker never had much patience for flimsiwork and the bureaucracy of command. Rex was used to sitting in the office for long hours, keeping Skywalker on track, and ultimately doing most of the flimsiwork himself. It had taken all his self-control to keep from laughing when Ahsoka tried to tell him he didn't need to sit with her until it was done. It went twice as fast with Ahsoka than it had with Skywalker.

Rex signed another form. The holonews played on one of the wall-mounted screens, the audio muted but not silent. He occasionally tuned in, but all the Coruscanti news stations were still covering the details of Palpatine’s trial. One would think there wasn’t any other news on the planet!

It was ridiculous.

He looked up from his datapad when a flash of yellow at the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was Cody just back from his errand, given he was still in armor rather than the blacks they wore around the barracks. Unfortunately, Rex knew exactly what that errand was.

He’d gone to see Commander Fox.

Cody sat down beside Rex and heaved a sigh.

“How is he?” Rex asked in a low voice.

Cody shook his head somberly. “Not… great, Rex. He’s doing better, but it’s going to take a long time.”

“That’s good,” Rex said. Glancing down at his datapad, he tossed it away before planting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples. He couldn’t help but feel responsible, and with Cody, he didn’t bother to hide it. “Cody, we should have been able to get to them. We should have found a way.”

"If you had, you would have tipped off the Chancellor," Cody reminded him. The gentleness in his voice almost made it worse. "If you had, we would have lost even more."

“I know,” Rex said. “I know.”

Ahsoka and Fives, and by extension himself, had saved so many. But there were so many they hadn’t saved. So many who pulled the trigger. So many they’d failed.

The chips’ programming started breaking down about a month after Sidious died. The leading theory was that, without Sidious around to continue giving orders to the voice-activated chips, the chips lost their hold on the troopers’ consciousnesses. Free will was a powerful thing, after all.

Unfortunately, when those who pulled the trigger on their Jedi came to and realized what they’d done… Well, for some, the guilt was too much to live with.

Commander Fox led the assault on the Jedi Temple. Along with the rest of the surviving Coruscant Guard, he had been subdued by de-chipped forces and imprisoned until the chips’ hold broke. Fortunately, he’d been in a holding cell when the programming failed and didn’t have access to his blaster. He had since been moved and was currently being held in one of Coruscant’s best mental health facilities alongside other at-risk troopers.

“It’s hard, being the one that survives,” Cody said, not for the first time. Rex wondered just how many times he’d said it over the years. “It certainly hasn’t gotten any easier. But, Rex– I wouldn’t be here today without you, or Fives, or Ahsoka. None of us would. So… thank you.”

Rex shrugged. It was the only response he could think of. Fives had been the one who went down a path unknown to any other clone, breaking away from the Republic to serve it better. The man was courageous to a fault. What had _Rex_ done, when it came down to it? He’d kept his head down and done his duty. Sure, he helped, but he wasn’t the reason the Republic was still standing. He couldn’t take credit for that.

“No,” he said slowly, choosing to reply to the first half of Cody’s statement. “It hasn’t.” After several long minutes of silence, he nodded toward the holoscreen. “They say the war will be over soon.”

Cody accepted the change of subject without complaint. "I'll believe it when I see it." He snorted. "They're acting like this trial is what's most important, and it might be… for them. Convict the Chancellor, and they'll cast all the blame off themselves, never mind they're just as much at fault."

Rex agreed. “It’s easy for them to say the war’s over. It’s not them or their people getting sent to fight what’s left of it.” With a heavy sigh, he picked up his datapad again. “They haven’t told us where we’re shipping off to yet, but we’ll be going somewhere. The GAR wouldn’t have accepted Ahsoka’s return to command otherwise.”

“They’re desperate,” Cody said. “They’ve lost half their generals, and stars forbid they promote a _trooper_ to the position.”

If he didn’t know his brother better, Rex might think Cody’s words callous. After all, the GAR hadn’t just ‘lost half their generals.’ Jedi and clones alike had lost their lives in the chaos caused by Order 66 and the aftermath, and their lives were worth far more than the inconvenience their absence caused. He knew Cody knew that, and Cody had a point. The GAR’s stance on denying clones command positions was frustrating, to say the least.

Instead of voicing any of this, Rex merely hummed in agreement as he signed another form. “Have you thought about what you’re gonna do?” he asked. “You know, after?”

Cody shrugged. “General Kenobi seems to think I should spearhead a Clones’ Rights campaign. Can you imagine it? Me, in a suit, talking with all those stuffy senators?” He shuddered.

Rex cast a critical eye over his brother. Cody may not have been the most charismatic or the most handsome of the clones by galactic humanoid standards, but he was terrifyingly competent. As Grand Marshal Commander, he was the highest-ranked clone in the GAR, and he felt strongly about his brothers' welfare. He'd also spent over three years working alongside General Obi-Wan "The Negotiator" Kenobi. There was no way he hadn't picked up a trick or two.

“I don’t think there’s a better man for the job,” Rex said honestly. “But you’ve got to work on that face of yours.”

Cody pushed him. “Yours ain’t much better, _vod_.” They tussled for a short moment, and then Cody threw the question back at him. “What about you? Have you thought about it?”

Rex sighed and gave up on the flimsiwork. “No,” he said. “I haven’t. I’ve… been trying not to. It’s not over yet, Codes. It probably won’t be for a while. I can’t let myself get distracted by things I may not live to see.”

Okay. That wasn’t… _entirely_ true. Since the holos first started proclaiming the end of the war, his thoughts had drifted several times toward the man he once met on Saleucami. It felt like a lifetime had passed since Cut Lawquane – the man who shared his face but had a farm, a wife, and two kids – had extended an invitation for Rex to return.

It was an invitation he didn’t see himself accepting, as tempting as it was. He knew the monotony of farm life wouldn’t sit well with him. Besides, he would miss his family in the 501st, which now included his brothers, two Jedi, a senator, and two little anklebiters.

But then, if not that, what was left for him?

Cody met Rex’s eyes, a skeptical look upon his face. “Rex, you know that of anyone, we’re the most likely to see the end of the war. Kenobi, Skywalker, Tano… they care. A little too much, perhaps. All three of them would put their lives in danger to save ours.”

_They already have_ , Rex added silently. Aloud, he said, “I know. I’ll think about it.”

Cody was right, of course. He usually was. Still, Rex was more aware than ever of the disconnect he felt between the war and the nebulous ‘after.’ He’d discussed it briefly with Ahsoka on the _Adamant_ while they were in orbit above Mandalore. The war needed to end, but part of him didn’t _want_ the war to end. Fighting was all he knew. All he was designed for. If there wasn't a war… would that make him obsolete?

Only time would tell.

“Fives,” Rex blurted, prompted by the holonews still playing on the screen. “You’ll want Fives on your campaign team. He’s testifying in the trial– he had his final deposition with Attorney Wynn today. He’s good with words, and the senators will recognize him.”

“I haven’t even agreed to the karking thing," Cody muttered. "But, I'll keep him in mind."

If it came to fruition, Fives would hate Rex for nominating him for the position. He’d get over it. No clone enjoyed the intricacies of politics, but… that was where the new battleground would be, wasn’t it? Not with blasters on the fields of Saleucami or in the forests of Kashyyyk, but with words in the halls of the Senate.

Perhaps Rex should consider volunteering as well…

He shuddered at the thought. The only thing worse than the monotony of farmwork would be the drudgery of the Senate. He had never been good with words. The language Rex knew was that of the military, and it had been all he needed… until now.

But the future was the future, and there was no good in dwelling on it. Rex's thoughts shifted back to the present as he and Cody fell into a comfortable silence. The ambient noise of his brothers arguing about trivial matters was a familiar comfort. The holonews droned on in the background.

How monumental it was for a clone to testify in the Senate!

Rex scoffed to himself. Of course, it would be Fives. Rex couldn’t think of a brother better suited for the task, and Fives had one hell of a story to tell. Absently, he wondered if, perhaps, Fives would inadvertently spark the Clones’ Rights movement himself. It wouldn’t be long before billions of lifeforms across the galaxy would see _him._

Not just a number, but an individual.

Not just a soldier, but a good man.

“You better,” Rex said, glancing at Cody with a sly grin. “Ten credits says Fives looks better in a suit than you ever will.”

Cody looked at him and blinked, deadpan. “No bet.”

* * *

“… As we proceed with this trial, I ask you to remember the following: politicians are forced to make difficult choices every day, and not every questionable decision made – especially during wartime – is an indicator of treason. Chancellor Palpatine had the faith of the Galactic Republic, and it was we who trusted him with the power to speak for us and guide us through a time of hardship. Let us not forget the man who once stood before us as our leader before he stood on trial.”

\- Defense Attorney Barr Zoran (h. Corellia)

_Galactic Republic v. Palpatine_  
Opening Statement given 16.08.07


	7. Testimony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fives testifies before the Senate, Padmé conducts an investigation, and the 501st has a good time at 79's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We apologise for the wait. This summer was rough for both of us. There was a pandemic, Ghostly had condensed summer classes, and Karma moved. But we're back, and with a 9k+ chapter at that! Also, Karma discovered CSS formatting and nothing will ever be the same.
> 
> One reason for the delay was that Ghostly put together and wrote the entire trial, which we feature parts of in this chapter. They'll be publishing the full trial on their account at some point, and will update it over time as the draft is finalized and we reach certain points in the fic.
> 
> Don't worry, we're not abandoning this fic! We'll be seeing it through to the end, we promise. We haven't even really gotten _started_ yet...

** 15.04.33 (13 months ago)  
** **11 months before Order 66**  
**Sector I-9, Cargo Bay 18, Coruscant**  
**2215h**

Ahsoka shot toward the coordinates Rex gave her with little regard for Coruscanti traffic laws. She had learned to fly from Anakin Skywalker, and as such, she shared his affinity for flying _fast_. It was a skill that had saved the lives of both herself and others over the years.

She hoped it would be enough.

She slowed down as she approached the sinkhole in Sector I-9. Surveillance was high, and she couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. She'd run the scenario through her head several times as she sped through the traffic lanes. Her best bet was to lay low. Hopefully, the situation would pan out without incident. In case she needed to intervene, however, she would have the element of surprise on her side.

Unfortunately, as she approached Bay 18, she spotted the red glow of a Republic probe droid hovering just beyond the landing platform. _Stang_. If she took it out, the GAR would know someone else was here.

If she didn’t take it out, they would know _who_ else was here.

Extending a hand, she crushed it with the Force and let it drop into the depths below.

That was it. She was running on borrowed time now.

There were very few places to hide a speeder on the platform. Ahsoka ducked her two-seater behind the same pile of crates Fives used to conceal his bike. They would do little to conceal the speeder from a thorough search, but they were better than nothing.

Pulling the hood of her half-cloak further down over her face, Ahsoka darted across the platform and ducked into the bay. Once inside, she leapt up into the rafters. She couldn't see Fives, but she could sense his presence in the Force. He was here somewhere.

Creeping through the rafters, she settled into a vantage point from which she could see the bay doors and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Not a minute later, two familiar figures stepped inside. Ahsoka's heart leapt. Anakin! Rex! They were so close, closer than they'd been in a month and a half, but she couldn't call out to them. Anakin ignited his lightsaber against the darkness, and Ahsoka ached at the sound of the familiar hum.

Then Anakin looked up in her direction, and she shrank back. _Sithspit!_ How could she have forgotten about their bond? She scrambled to shield her presence in the Force.

“Sir?” she heard Rex ask.

“It’s nothing,” Anakin said, then called out into the darkness: “Fives? Fives, we’re here. Come on out. We just want to talk to you.”

Ahsoka followed them. Rex held his blasters at the ready, his head on a swivel. Occasionally, he glanced up at the ceiling. He knew she was here, then. At least there was one benefit to her slip-up.

“General Skywalker.” Five’s voice echoed through the bay. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. Now, have you come without troops?”

Rex was right. Something _wasn’t_ right. Ahsoka had never heard Fives sound so uncertain in all the time she’d known him. She crept farther along the rafter. Where _was_ he?

"We have," Anakin said. As Ahsoka watched, he sidestepped so that his back was against Rex's. Did he really have so little trust in Fives, after everything? Did he really think the man would attack him?

“Put your weapons down, then.”

“I don’t think so, Fives.”

Ahsoka’s heart broke. Apparently, the answer was ‘yes.’

“Please, sir!” Fives begged. “Please, I’m unarmed.”

Anakin and Rex exchanged a glance. A moment later, Anakin turned off his lightsaber. 

“All right,” Rex said with another glance upward, though not quite at where Ahsoka was perched. “I’m putting my pistols down.”

Ahsoka didn't like where this was going. Her nerves sat on edge as she watched the scene play out below her, and dread washed over her as Fives trapped Anakin and Rex in a containment field. She nearly cried out with Anakin but bit her tongue.

She thumbed the blasters at her waist, checking they were set to stun as she listened to Fives ramble down below. His story was far-fetched. It didn't help that he was having trouble stringing two sentences together into a logical argument.

A plot against the Jedi?

Organic chips?

Ahsoka didn't know what to make of it, but it was evident that Fives had found _something._ Hadn’t she been here herself, not too long ago? Framed for a crime she didn’t commit, and unable to trust anyone?

“Let’s get you some help first,” Anakin said gently. “Then we can review everything. It’ll be okay, Fives. We’ll sort this out.”

“Ah, you don’t _believe_ me!”

The sheer desperation in his voice broke her heart.

“Fives,” Rex said. “We are listening to you. We only want to help.”

They wanted to help, Ahsoka realized, but they could only help from within the system Fives didn’t trust. From within the system _she_ hadn't trusted. At that moment, she realized with crystal clarity why Rex had called her here.

She wasn’t part of the system anymore, Jedi _or_ GAR.

“How do I know you’re not tricking me?” Fives insisted. “How do I know it won’t be a trap? The Chancellor will try to kill me. I promise you that!”

Ahsoka froze.

“The Chancellor?” Anakin asked.

Oh. This wasn’t good.

“He’s in on it!” Fives said. “I don’t know to what extent, but I know he orchestrated much of this. He told me in the medical bay!”

“He _told_ you? When you tried to assassinate him?” Anakin demanded. “You have gone too far, Fives. The Chancellor isn’t capable of what you claim.”

The Chancellor was the one who pushed Ahsoka’s case through without a fair trial. The Chancellor was the one who declared her guilty of the crime she didn’t commit. As much as Ahsoka loved her former master, to immediately claim the Chancellor was incapable of such a thing was a bit hasty.

If what Fives was saying was true, then Ahsoka saw only two explanations. The first was that the Chancellor told him something, and Fives felt the need to kill him for it. The second was that the Chancellor told him something… and then claimed Fives tried to kill him to keep it from getting out.

Either way, she didn't have time to dwell on it. She could feel the Coruscant Guard gathering just outside, and their arrival would only throw fuel on the raging fire. If she was going to act, she needed to do it _now._

Ahsoka unholstered her pistol and lined up her shot. “Sorry, Fives,” she whispered. She pulled the trigger.

“He is!” Fives said. “I swear–”

The stunbolt hit true. Fives slumped to the ground, and Ahsoka leapt down from the rafters.

Anakin jumped back. “Whoa! Wait… _Ahsoka?_ ”

Ahsoka didn’t acknowledge him as she lifted Fives’s arm and slung it over her shoulder. She wanted to. _Stars,_ she wanted to. But there was no time.

“I’ll keep him safe,” she promised Rex, meeting golden eyes. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Ahsoka?”

Rex nodded. “Thank you, Commander.”

Something flipped in Ahsoka's chest. She returned his nod and tore her eyes from his, glancing briefly at Anakin, who still stood in shock. Flashing him an apologetic smile, she hiked Fives's arm further around her shoulder and dragged him farther into the cargo bay.

She couldn’t go out the front, not with Commander Fox and the rest of his squad storming the bay, but there was usually a back entrance to these things that connected them to the rest of the level. Nyx’s shop was set up similarly.

Ah. There it was.

“Come on, Fives,” she said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Your Honor, and lifeforms of the jury. We now come to the matter identified as Order 66, the event in which thousands of clone troopers turned on their Jedi commanders and the Republic. You will hear testimony today that proves Supreme Chancellor Palpatine instigated Order 66 and is directly responsible for the damage that followed, including the loss of free will in thousands of soldiers and attempted genocide on the Jedi Order.

You will hear ARC-5555, Nala Se, Mas Amedda, and Count Dooku give evidence as to the nature of this event, including the biological cause, the purpose, and the masterminds behind it.

Your Honor, I now prepare to call my first witness.

**THE COURT:** Proceed.

* * *

**16.08.11 (Present Day)  
** **2.5 months after Order 66  
** **Senate Building  
** **0700h**

Having known Fives for as long as he had, Echo was no stranger to his brother’s idiosyncrasies. Fives had never been one for sitting still, whether in cadet class or ARC training. He was a man of action, and it showed.

They hadn't been in Senator Amidala's office longer than ten minutes. Fives had been pacing for at least eight of those, silhouetted against the sun rising beyond the windows overlooking the city. He cut a sharp figure in his dress greys, a uniform which neither of them had worn since their ARC training completion ceremony. Every now and then, Fives paused to tug at a cuffed sleeve. Echo himself sat comfortably in full kit, his helmet on the floor by his feet.

The fifth day of the trial was set to begin in just under an hour. The last three days had been filled with clerical testimony. There was plenty of evidence of misappropriated funds and intelligence both leaked and gained where it shouldn't have been. Echo had downloaded the files to his processing unit as soon as they had become available. It was damning, but even Echo had to admit it was _boring._

Nobody cared about misappropriated funds and intelligence leaks. They wanted to know what the _kriff_ happened with the Jedi, the clones, and Order 66. Was the Chancellor _really_ responsible for the near-collapse of the Republic?

Echo nearly scoffed at the thought. Of course he was.

They just needed to convince everyone else.

Senator Amidala – or at least, the woman they were meant to _believe_ was Senator Amidala – watched Fives pace from behind Amidala’s desk. Only a few months ago, Echo may not have noticed the deception. He had met the senator a couple times during the war, but only briefly. He hadn’t had a chance to catalogue the bone structure of her face or the cadence of her walk the way he had while they were on Naboo.

During their convalescence, Echo learned it was traditional for Nabooan royalty to swap places with their attendants during situations that necessitated a decoy. It was a tradition that Senator Amidala continued into her tenure as senator.

These were all facts. What Echo _didn’t_ know was _why_ Senator Amidala had swapped places with her aide this morning. Was she expecting danger at the trial? No, she would have said something to Fives if that were the case. Right?

But Fives, too, had done a double-take upon stepping into the senator’s office. Whatever the reason for the swap, Echo was certain that neither he nor Fives was supposed to be aware of it.

He wasn’t about to say anything to the contrary. If anyone asked, Senator Amidala had been with them the whole time.

Fives continued to pace, muttering words under his breath that Echo’s augmented hearing picked up clearly. “Nala Se was furious that he performed the scan… outright denied its existence… only way to find out... post-mortem autopsy… Aw, kark it all.”

It was time to intervene.

“Calm down.” When Fives whipped around to face him, Echo offered a placating smile. “You’re just making yourself more nervous, _vod_.”

“Calm down?” Fives asked incredulously. “I can’t calm down! I’ve got to get this _right_.”

“You _will_ get it right,” Echo argued. When Fives got heated, there was no talking him out of anything, but he had to give it a shot. “Attorney Wynn’s gonna walk you through it. You’ve just got to answer her questions.”

“Yeah, but–”

Echo didn’t hear Fives’s response. The door to Senator Amidala’s office hissed open to reveal an exuberant Ahsoka Tano, her arms laden with large swaths of blue and silver fabric. Rex shuffled in behind her.

“Happy testimony day!” Ahsoka exclaimed with a grin. “I brought you a gift!”

“A… gift,” Fives said, eyeing the fabric skeptically.

“Well,” Ahsoka amended. “It’s _actually_ a gift from House Kryze, but Bo-Katan sent it to me to give to you. She said you should wear it for the trial.”

Echo watched in bemusement as Ahsoka dropped the bottom half of the fabric to reveal robes that were fancier than everything else a clone wore in his life _combined._ They were clearly inspired by popular senatorial garb, but with a distinct Mandalorian flair.

Fives recoiled. “No,” he said. “Nuh-uh. No way. My dress greys are fine.”

Echo couldn’t help it. He laughed. Glancing at Rex, he saw the other man was barely containing a smile. Fives gave them both the stink-eye, and Echo laughed even harder.

Ahsoka gave him a knowing look and turned back to Fives. “Your dress greys are fine for _military functions,_ ” she stressed, thrusting the hanger and the robes forward. “This is not a military function. Wear the karking robes.”

Fives eyed the cloth in revulsion. “This is revenge for Corellia, isn’t it?”

Ahsoka sighed. “No, it’s not revenge for– Rex, a little help here?”

Rex shook his head slightly as he stepped forward. Clearly, he hadn't intended to get involved in this battle, but he stepped up to the occasion anyway. That was their commander, all right.

Holding his helmet at his side, Rex straightened as he addressed Fives, just as impressive in this office as he was out on the battlefield. “Everyone out there? They already see you as a soldier. As a _clone._ We need them to see you as a man. As an individual.”

“But we _are_ individuals,” Fives insisted. “We all are!”

Echo rolled his eyes and butted in. “Then show them that.”

Fives glared at all of them. It was three-on-one. As stubborn as he could be, he knew when he'd lost a battle. "Fine," he snarled, though not maliciously. "I'll change."

The three of them watched as Fives snatched the robes from Ahsoka and stalked to the ‘fresher. As soon as the door closed behind him, Echo could no longer contain his curiosity.

“What happened on Corellia?”

Ahsoka turned to him, her lekku curling slightly at the ends as a sheepish look came over her face. “We were working a job, and we decided the best way to draw in the mark was to… well… _draw him in,_ y’know?” Her eyes flicked to Rex as she spoke. Almost nervously, Echo realized. “Anyway. I ended up in a really fancy, uncomfortable outfit that evening. But we got him!”

“And this isn’t about revenge?” Rex asked.

“Jedi do not seek revenge,” Ahsoka said placidly. Then she grinned a toothy grin. “But I’m not exactly a Jedi, and I would be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

“…Right.”

Echo grinned at the dryness in his commander's tone. Not for the first time, he realized just how far he and Fives had come since they were shinies assigned to Rishi station. The Echo of back then wouldn't have dared to think that he'd be sharing a joke with his commander and general one day.

“Well,” he said, “knowing my brother, he probably deserves it.”

Fives returned shortly after, and Echo almost regretted his statement for how uncomfortable he looked. It wasn’t that the robes didn’t fit him – Echo knew the Mandalorians already had Fives’s measurements from the time he and Ahsoka spent with them – but he stood stiffly, as though the robes were heavy and uncomfortable.

Echo didn’t blame him. It was weird just _seeing_ Fives in robes better suited for senators and other upper-echelon society. Until recently, Echo had never seen any of his brothers in anything other than blacks or armor. It was hard enough to get used to wearing civvies on Naboo. There was comfort in wearing armor. It was a clone’s second skin; to be without it was to be vulnerable.

He didn’t envy Fives’s position, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the robes. What materials did the Mandalorians _use_ , anyway?

“Well, So’ika?” Fives asked, tugging at the hems of silver brocade sleeves embroidered with the hexagonal motif the Mandalorians favored. “How does it look?”

Ahsoka hummed and rubbed her chin. “The robes look sharp, Fives,” she said. “Not so sure about you, though.”

“Hey!”

Echo grinned. He loved watching the two of them interact. The loss of Domino Squad hit Fives especially hard, and then with Echo’s own ‘death’ on top of that… well, he was just glad Fives found family elsewhere.

Attorney Wynn strode in as they were helping Fives straighten out his robes. Echo had met her a couple of times before, walking with Fives to his deposition appointments. His overwhelming impression of her was that she was _intimidating._

Prosecuting Attorney Lessa Wynn was a haughty Lethan Twi’lek just on the precipice between middle-aged and elderly. Today she was dressed in heavy robes, the deep red of the velvet outer layer offset by the gold accent of her sleeves. One pale red lek draped back over the opposite shoulder in a stately fashion. Her shoes clacked menacingly against the floor, and her face held no trace of a smile.

She meant more business than any other woman Echo had ever met. He’d watched some of the holofootage from the last few days. She was _terrifying_ in the courtroom.

“Fives,” she said brusquely. “Are you ready?”

Echo hid a smile as Fives noticeably restrained himself from saluting her. “As ready as I’ll ever be, ma’am.”

“Good.” Attorney Wynn nodded perfunctorily at Not-Amidala, who Echo had almost forgotten was in the room. “Let’s go.”

Ahsoka raised her brows at them behind Attorney Wynn’s back as they left the office. “Wow,” she mouthed silently.

Rex and Echo nodded their agreement. Fives probably would have as well if he weren't already a thousand parsecs away in his own thoughts. Echo still thought his brother was worrying too much. With his natural charisma and the story he had to tell, Fives would be incredible.

The air was somber as they boarded the transport that would take them from the Republic Executive Building to the Senate Dome. Echo and Rex donned their helmets, and Ahsoka’s hands hovered near her lightsabers. There hadn't yet been reports of assassination attempts on witnesses called by the prosecution, but they weren't about to take any chances.

No one spoke a word. Echo was beginning to feel the weight of what was about to happen, and he sensed he wasn't alone. The faces of Ahsoka and Fives were unreadable, their thoughts plentiful yet unknowable. Everything they had been through led to this. This transport was the final step– the final chance for things to go wrong.

It was a harrowing jaunt, but all was quiet.

Attorney Wynn parted ways with them at the elevator in the rotunda. She would take her place at the center podium. The rest of them would follow Not-Amidala to Naboo's senatorial pod.

“Remember,” she said before taking the next elevator down. “Relax. You have only the truth to tell, and I’m here to help you tell it.”

Once she was gone, the others made their way down the hall. With the trial taking place in the rotunda, each witness was meant to testify from their senator's pod. Unsurprisingly, however, Kamino had refused to allow Fives to testify from its pod. Fives could have testified from the pod reserved for visiting dignitaries from outside the Republic – the same pod Dooku would testify from – but Senator Amidala had stepped in. With permission from Queen Apailana, Fives would speak from Naboo's pod instead.

“Only Fives will be allowed in the pod with me,” Not-Amidala said apologetically as they came to a halt. “The rest of you will have to wait out here.”

“That’s fine,” Echo said as Fives shifted his weight restlessly. “We’ll be here.” He reached out and clasped Fives’s arm, a traditional gesture of comfort amongst the troopers. “You got this, brother.”

Ahsoka swooped in when Echo stepped back, bouncing up on her tiptoes to give Fives a quick hug. Her smile expressed everything left unsaid.

Rex was last, standing ramrod straight as he grabbed Fives’s shoulder. His expression was somber as they locked eyes. “For Tup.”

Fives took a deep breath, a new resolve settling over his features. He nodded. “For Tup.”

With one last uncertain smile, Fives followed Not-Amidala out onto the pod. To Echo’s surprise, he suddenly felt just as nervous.

“He’ll do great,” Ahsoka said, briefly laying a hand on his arm. Had she read his mind? He didn’t think so, but he also wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

“I know,” Echo said, pride swelling in his chest. After all these years, Fives was almost an extension of himself, and vice versa. How could Echo doubt him?

Ahsoka and Rex lingered as the court opened session. Echo was somewhat surprised; he had expected them to be on their way. They had been constantly busy since landing on Coruscant, both prepping the 501st and attending meetings about the current state of the war.

But they didn’t leave. They settled into the box beside Echo and _stayed._ Rex even took his helmet off and set it by his feet as Echo had. Not for the first time that morning, Echo realized just how special the 501st was, and how lucky he was to be here.

Attorney Wynn’s voice rang throughout the rotunda. “I call ARC-5555 of the Grand Army of the Republic to the stand.”

* * *

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** State your name and rank for the court.

**ARC-5555:** My designation is ARC-5555, but my name is Fives. Prior to the events I will describe, I was an ARC trooper in the 501st Legion commanded by General Skywalker.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Fives, can you describe how you came about your knowledge of Order 66?

**ARC-5555:** I conducted a personal investigation while I was on Kamino following an event we now know was a premature initiation of Order 66 in a close friend of mine: CT-5385, known as Tup. It was there I discovered that although the incident was isolated, the cause was anything but.

My efforts were rewarded with several attempts to take my life. I brought my findings to Coruscant, hoping to share them with Chancellor Palpatine, but was blocked at every turn by those I thought I could trust. I was fortunate to escape with my life and make it offworld. I then continued my investigation outside of the Republic.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Let’s start at the beginning. When did the incident with Tup occur?

**ARC-5555:** It was during a campaign on Ringo Vinda, ArS 15.04.30.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Were you there when it happened?

**ARC-5555:** Yes, ma’am. I saw everything.

* * *

“… He shot her point-blank and killed her, out of nowhere, right in the middle of combat.”

Padmé watched the live holo of Palpatine’s trial from Bail’s office, just down the hall from her own. The room was empty save for herself and R2-D2, who was plugged into the holofeed and projecting the holo before her. Bail himself was in the Senate chamber. _He_ hadn’t been kicked off the jury.

She chided herself for the petty thought. It was good that Bail remained on the jury, and all things considered, she really could _not_ be. There was too much conflict of interest, and she knew that.

That didn’t mean it stung any less.

“… he seemed disoriented but more or less okay,” Fives said, his voice clear over the holo. “Until he saw Master Tiplee, when he began with ‘kill the Jedi’ again. It was like the sight of a Jedi acted as a trigger. Quite frankly, we had no idea what to make of it.”

Under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t even be a jury for a case like this. A case of this caliber typically would have gone straight to the Supreme Court, but Palpatine had replaced seven of the twelve judges during his tenure as Chancellor, including the chief justice. With the Supreme Court stacked in Palpatine’s favor, there had been overwhelming support for the motion to handle his case within the Senate.

The law teams had found precedent for handling cases of treason internally, stretching back to the days of the Old Republic. Padmé thought it was fitting. Until recently, the Sith had been a relic of the Old Republic as well. 

“You’re saying the Separatists attempted to abduct Tup?” Attorney Wynn clarified.

Fives nodded. “That is correct, ma’am. We didn’t know why, but it was imperative we got him back so we could stand a chance of finding out.”

Padmé’s gaze shifted from Fives to the woman who sat behind him. Herself, ostensibly. Officially, only she and Anakin knew it was Sabé beneath the senatorial garb, but she suspected it didn’t take long for the boys of the 501st to figure out it wasn’t her.

With all the holocams on the pod this morning, it was risky having Sabé sit in as her double. Thankfully, all the attention was on Fives rather than ‘herself.’ The risk alone would give her a foolproof alibi if it came to that. Why, for all the love of Naboo, would someone suspect she wasn’t actually in the Senate chamber?

They wouldn’t.

“Fives,” Attorney Wynn said in the holo, “can you tell me who was present for Tup’s evaluation?”

Fives shifted his weight and clasped his hands behind his back like he was giving a report in the field. “Nala Se was in charge of the evaluation, and Jedi Master Shaak Ti was there to advise. Tup's medical droid was AZI-3. He oversaw my care, as well."

“Is it correct to say, then, that you were not present for the evaluation?”

"That is correct, ma'am. I was in the exam room adjacent to Tup. There was a window between the two rooms, but they closed it once they began the hyper-tests on Tup."

“If you weren’t there during the evaluation, how do you know its results?”

Padmé was highly invested in this trial and wished she could continue watching, but it was time. She picked up her commlink and stood. “You ready, Artoo?”

Artoo whistled merrily, and the projection disappeared as he unplugged from the holofeed.

Padmé smiled as she flipped her white hood up over her hair, which she had tied up in two neat buns to keep it out of her face. R2-D2 may have been known across the galaxy as Anakin Skywalker's droid, but he belonged to her for ten years before she gifted him to Anakin at their wedding. The little droid had been a stalwart companion and assistant in her early days as a senator, and she missed him.

Artoo rolled out of Bail’s office. Padmé waited a couple minutes, then slipped out behind him.

It hadn’t taken long for Padmé to cave and tell Anakin she was up to something. She hated keeping secrets from him, and secrets had nearly torn them apart before. He still didn’t know exactly _what_ she was up to, but he had suggested– or rather, insisted– she take Artoo with her.

Padmé might have been annoyed by her husband’s tendency toward over-protection, but she really was grateful to have Artoo with her. His presence would make this little mission of hers much easier.

The Republic Executive Building was all but abandoned with everyone currently attending the trial in the Senate Dome, and Artoo should have plugged into the mainframe and set the security cameras to loop by now. Still, it was with caution that Padmé turned toward the office of Orn Free Taa.

Orn Free Taa wasn't an arbitrary target. Padmé had spent hours with Bail over the last week, both poring over the multitude of reports released prior to the trial, trying to find the best target for her investigation. They had painstakingly identified each member of both the Strategic Advisory Cell and the Republic Special Weapons Group. Padmé had wanted to get into the office of Orson Krennic – a man they identified as one of the project's leaders – but breaking into the Republic Center for Military Operations was too much for her to take on herself, even with Artoo's help.

The easiest targets, she and Bail decided, were the handful of senators involved. She wasn’t surprised to learn that Senator Taa was on the committee. He had always been close with Palpatine, and he wasn’t one to turn down a good investment if he thought it would make him money.

And there was a _lot_ of money in whatever this project was.

Padmé kept her head down as she walked, allowing the edges of her hood to obscure her face. She wore makeup to disguise her bone structure, but she couldn’t be too careful. What she was doing was technically treason. Palpatine may be dead, but he still had allies in the Senate that wanted to keep this project secret.

Getting caught in the middle of this would ruin her career. In a way, the idea was tempting. It would make the decision for her about whether to step down as senator. Then again, it might also get her executed for treason.

_That_ idea was… not so tempting.

“I’m on approach,” she murmured to Artoo through her commlink. “Prepare to unlock door WX-23.”

Artoo whistled in confirmation as she turned down the final hall to Senator Taa's office. This hall, like the others, was empty. She paused outside the office door. A moment later, the security pad turned green, and the door whooshed open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

Orn Free Taa’s office was… awful.

After serving two terms as the queen of Naboo, Padmé was no stranger to opulence. She carried some of that opulence with her when she became senator, choosing to continue wearing the elaborate dresses and headpieces usually associated with Naboo royalty.

It was an indulgence she allowed herself. But it was nothing like… like _this._

Senator Taa’s office was an exercise in garish luxury, from the velvet floor-length curtains to the plush rug with a threadcount even higher than the rugs in the royal palace. The grandiose desk was real wood instead of synthwood, but it was almost an afterthought to the plush couches and chaise lounges that dominated the space.

Orn Free Taa lived like a king while Ryloth still struggled. It made Padmé sick.

Swallowing her anger at the injustice, Padmé crossed the room and pulled a datachip from her sleeve. It was loaded with a program that would automatically download a computer’s contents if she stuck it in the dataport.

She didn’t know where Bail got it from. She didn’t ask.

It took her a minute to find the dataports hidden in the recesses of the desk. When she finally inserted the chip, the login page on the holoscreen changed to a loading bar.

Padmé felt the urge to look through Senator Taa’s files, but she needed a password to bypass security. All she could do was sit and wait for the datachip to finish downloading.

She sank into the ridiculously push, oversized desk chair and rubbed her temples. “Artoo, let me know if anyone’s at the door.”

Artoo chirruped.

With a heavy sigh, Padmé swiveled in the chair to look out the window over Coruscant. It was a different view than the one she had from her office, but if she weren't so intimately familiar with her office's view, she wouldn't be able to tell. Coruscant was a monotonous cityscape, a gridded grey canvas below that reflected the gridded skylanes above.

It held its own urban charm, but Padmé ached for Naboo's green trees and blue lakes. She missed the architecture that served to enhance the nature around it, rather than squash it. Padmé had heard talk of a manmade park on the other side of the planet, a blocks-wide green space that served as Coruscant's only on-planet nature reserve, but she'd never been.

The truth was Padmé didn’t know what to do. While the Crown had _asked_ her to step down as senator, the decision was hers. She had been prepared for this eventuality. She knew the moment she married Anakin that she might one day lose her career to the scandal, and at the time, she knew which she would choose if it came to that. It was Anakin. It would always _be_ Anakin.

In her imagined scenarios, though, she never had a choice. She never imagined a galaxy in which she could continue with her career _and_ come clean about her marriage. Her image was tarnished, sure, but so much else was happening that the scandal had fallen by the wayside. There was a chance, however slim, that she could push through this.

Luke and Leia were with Anakin today. She knew she would see them when she got home, but she already missed them terribly. Stepping down as senator would give her more time to spend with her children. She didn’t want to be a stranger to them, to be the mother who was away at work so often that they hardly recognized her when she was home. She wanted to give them a stable upbringing, one where they didn’t have to uproot their lives every few months to travel back and forth from Coruscant.

But this was a tumultuous time. Padmé felt a duty to her homeworld and the other thirty-five planets of the Chommell sector. She had proposed the vote of no-confidence in Chancellor Valorum thirteen years ago that put Chancellor Palpatine in power. As much as she might want to, she couldn't run away from that. She owed it to the galaxy to rectify her mistakes. This was a time in which she could make some real change. She wasn’t Force-sensitive, but she could _feel_ it.

Which left her… here.

She had spoken to Anakin briefly about it, but he had only encouraged her to do what she felt was right. As much as she appreciated his support, it was about as helpful as a lame kaadu.

Her aides were the only others who knew of the Crown’s request, but she hadn’t yet sought their counsel. She was… afraid. What if there was an obvious answer she was overlooking? Would they judge her for her indecision?

Maybe–

Artoo whistled urgently.

Padmé jumped. Without thinking, she whirled back around and dove beneath the desk. She caught the chair with one hand to stop its motion just moments before she heard the distinct _hiss_ of the door opening.

“Ugh. Why do the offices have to be so far from the Dome?” a feminine voice complained.

“Probably the same reason Taa decided he wants a drink,” another said. “Just because.”

Padmé relaxed upon realizing that these were most likely Senator Taa's aides, though she didn't dare peek around the desk to look. Hopefully, they would get whatever they were here for and leave quickly.

The first aide scoffed. “At least it got us out of there for a bit,” she said. “I know it’s important, but it’s all so dry. And my butt was falling asleep!”

“Tala, that’s _Lessa Wynn_ out there! One of the first Twi’lek lawyers in nearly a century!”

“So?” Tala asked. “That doesn’t mean this trial can’t be _dry._ Or that my butt wasn’t falling asleep.”

The other aide sighed as something clattered. “I’m gonna put myself through school like she did,” she declared. “My family’s been doing a lot better since I’ve been sending them Taa’s pay, and they’re starting to set aside what they can for me.”

"That's awesome, Lia. What do you want to go for? Do you know what school?"

“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I was thinking–”

The door hissed shut, and the aides’ conversation became an inaudible mumble before fading out completely. Padmé heaved a sigh of relief but stay put for several minutes in case Tala and Lia came back.

At least it was comfortable beneath the desk.

The datachip beeped. The download was complete, and whatever secrets Orn Free Taa was keeping were now hers. Padmé gingerly pulled the device from the dataport and slid it back up her sleeve. Careful to leave everything just the way it was when she came in, she slipped out of the office.

Artoo met her in the hallway junction between Senator Taa’s office and the maintenance closet where he had sequestered himself. Padmé assumed he left the cameras to loop until they were both safely back in Bail’s office. In any case, she trusted him. R2-D2 was a devious, sneaky little droid.

Contrary to popular belief, had hadn’t learned that from Anakin.

A noise down the hall caught her attention. Glancing over her shoulder, Padmé crouched before Artoo and handed him the datachip. “Can you scan that?” she asked. “We’re looking for the project the Republic Special Weapons Group doesn’t want us to find.”

Artoo responded with a low whine as his scanners began their work.

They made it back to Bail's office without incident. The few aides and staffers they passed hardly gave them a first look, let alone a second. Once they were safely inside, Padmé sent a missive to Anakin, letting him know her mission was complete. She got the notification he read it almost immediately.

He’d been worried.

With nothing else to do while Sabé wore her face, Padmé wished she could have Artoo broadcast more of the trial for her, but his processors were busy with something far more important. All she could do was sit tight and be patient.

She didn’t have to wait long. About fifteen minutes later, Artoo screamed.

He screamed like she’d never heard him scream before.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. “What is it?”

Padmé didn't understand binary the way Anakin and Ahsoka did. Still, there was no mistaking the holoprojection Artoo cast into the room of the schematics for a small moon. No, she realized, not a moon– a space station.

“DS-1 Orbital Battle Station,” she read aloud, slowly. “Little fishes.”

Sometimes, she really hated being right.

* * *

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Where did you go once you returned to Tipoca City?

**ARC-5555:** The Genetic Records Hall. AZI-3 told me it contained the DNA of every being the Kaminoans have cloned. The plan was to compare the DNA of the tumor to that of Jango Fett- the DNA template for all us clone troopers.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Why?

**ARC-5555:** We wanted to see if there was any record of this happening before.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** What was the result of your analysis?

**ARC-5555:** The DNA did not match. At all. What we took out of Tup’s brain had a completely different genotype from the rest of his body. In addition, it wasn’t completely organic, and was foreign to the body. What we thought was a tumor was actually an implanted chip.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** What did you do with this knowledge?

**ARC-5555:** I needed to know if I had a chip, and if I did, I had to get it out. AZI-3 performed the procedure in an empty exam room.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Did you have a chip?

**ARC-5555:** Yes, ma’am, I did. It was identical to Tup’s, but mine hadn’t malfunctioned and degraded.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** The two of you weren’t the only ones with chips, though, were you?

**ARC-5555:** No, ma’am, we were not. One trooper with a tumor was an anomaly; two troopers with identical biological chips was not. AZI-3 believed implantation took place during the embryo stage, so we went to the Embryo Room check for ourselves.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** What did you find there?

**ARC-5555:** The stage 1 embryos didn’t have chips, but we got a solid match on a stage 3 embryo. Then another. AZI-3 used the data to calculate how many of the embryos in the tree received the implant.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** What was the result of AZI-3’s calculation?

**ARC-5555:** The entire thing lit up. Every single clone in that tree had the same chip that drove Tup insane.

* * *

Fives wasn’t drunk.

At least, not yet.

By his own judgement, he was only– maybe– halfway past tipsy. Probably. The thunderous bassline pulsing through the darkened club was a welcome reprieve from the sterile silence of the Senate dome, and he reveled in it. He didn’t _belong_ there, with the fancy senators and the politics. Here, at 79's, surrounded by his brothers and one sister… _this_ was where he belonged.

“You doing all right there, Fives?”

Fives lifted his head off Echo's shoulder, grinned, and gave Ahsoka the GAR 'okay' hand sign. "Never better."

Truth be told, after his day on the stand, all Fives really wanted to do was go back to the barracks and sleep. Testifying before the Senate had exhausted him just as much as a hard-won battle out in the field. Still, when his brothers in Torrent and Saber companies insisted on celebrating, he wasn’t about to say _no._

Across from him, Ahsoka smiled and shook her head. She didn’t usually join them at 79’s, but she had tonight, her sensitive montrals protected from the bassline by a padded headdress. It wasn’t the same one she had picked up on Takodana during their year on the run, Fives noticed. He suspected she’d had one specially tailored for her sometime in the last few weeks.

It was for the best. The old one was bulky and not particularly flattering.

With effort, Fives sat up straight and smoothed out the fabric of the robes he still wore. He would have changed before coming out, but he’d been held up by Attorney Wynn and several senators after the court session adjourned for the day. The others had already been waiting for him in one of the large back booths by the time he arrived as it was.

“You’re still worried about the robes?” Ahsoka asked, laughing. “They’re Mando-made, Fives. They’re stronger than that.”

“And twice as shiny,” Jesse quipped. “Stars, you really _are_ a fancy peacock, aren’t ya?”

"Aw, shut your yapping," Fives grumbled. "Wearing these wasn't my first choice. I was just gonna wear my dress greys, but _somebody_ –” he shot a glare at the still-giggling Ahsoka– “showed up and told me I had to wear these.”

“And aren’t you _so_ glad I did?” Ahsoka simpered. Although she hadn’t had as much to drink as his brothers, she too was beginning to creep toward the other side of tipsy. Beside her, Kix covered a smile with his hand. “I’m sure Bo-Katan would have been _terribly_ insulted had you not accepted her gift.”

“Ah. Yeah. We wouldn’t want _that_ now, would we? Besides,” Fives said, “the robes are actually starting to grow on me.”

“They look good on you, _vod_ ,” Kix agreed. “If you ever wanna get rid of ‘em… Well, you know where to find me.”

Jesse grinned and elbowed Kix hard. “You _would_ say that.”

“Yeah. Hey,” Fives protested. “Why are you calling _me_ the peacock when Kix is sitting right there?”

Stars, had he missed this in the year he was gone. As much as he loved Ahsoka, there was nothing in the galaxy that served as a proper substitute for time spent with his brothers. He met her eyes across the table, and she grinned. She understood.

Squeezed between Fives and Jesse, Echo had been quiet thus far, but that wasn’t unusual nowadays. Fives knew his brother was enjoying himself just as much as the rest of them. As the conversation turned to other topics, he nudged Echo in the side.

“Rex isn’t coming?”

He wasn’t surprised, or even disappointed. Rex accompanied them to 79’s even less often than Ahsoka did. Fives would have been more surprised if the man were here.

“He said he’d join us,” Echo replied. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

“Cody wanted to talk to him about something,” Ahsoka said, looking up from her conversation with Kix and Jesse. “I don’t know what, but–” she shrugged– “he should be here soon. I think.”

Fives felt a sly grin creep across his face as he raised a brow. "Oh, good. It wouldn't be the same without him."

Ahsoka’s lekku twitched irritably. She stared daggers at him for a long moment, then ducked her head and turned back to Kix and Jesse.

"What was that about?" Echo murmured. He was never one to miss a detail and, with his cybernetic parts, was easily the soberest of the group by this point.

“I… can’t say,” Fives demurred. He wanted to tell Echo everything, he really did, but he swore a promise to Ahsoka he wasn’t willing to break.

Echo tapped a finger against the tabletop rhythmically, thoughtfully. “It’s all right,” he said with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Even tipsy as he was, Fives knew that look in his brother’s eye. Echo was taking it as a challenge.

"Sure," he agreed readily. Crossing his arms, he leaned back in the booth. "I won't– Hey, speak of the devil!"

Across the table, Ahsoka froze. If she were a tooka, her ears would have flicked backward, and Fives stifled a laugh at the thought. As it was, she merely shot him another warning look before turning to greet their commander with the rest of them.

“Hey, you made it!” she exclaimed as soon as Rex was within earshot. “The boys weren’t sure if you would.”

Rex smiled down at them. “Ah, sorry about that. Cody needed my help with something.” In a more serious tone, he added: “Congratulations, Fives. That was some good work out there today.”

“Wouldn’t’ve been possible without you, sir,” Fives said sincerely. “So… thank _you_.”

Rex shifted uncomfortably at the praise. “Actually… I think that was all Ahsoka.”

“Hey, Rexter,” Ahsoka said, cutting off whatever argument either of them might have made next, “since you’re late, I think you should buy us the next round.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Kix chimed in.

It was all a bit of a running joke. Since clones weren’t actually _paid_ , 79’s had cut a deal with the Republic. A running tab was kept for each battalion and would later be taken from said battalion’s funding. Only civilians paid in credits around here.

“Yeah, sure,” Rex agreed, but not without casting a critical eye over the glasses already strewn across the table. “What’s everyone drinking tonight?”

They all gave their orders, and Rex memorized them without writing them down. Showoff. Fives was surprised at first that Rex didn’t blink at Ahsoka ordering with the rest of them, but it was a long two months on Mandalore. Besides, it wasn’t like Rex was unaware of what they got up to during their year away.

Fives recalled one particularly memorable drunken holo-call…

As Rex left to get their drinks, Fives allowed himself to sink once again into the comforting noise that was 79's. Ridge was telling a story to some younger members of Torrent Company at a table nearby. Skye and Mitts laughed raucously at something Appo said in the booth behind theirs.

Perhaps everything was worth it if it had all led to this moment.

He said something to that effect to Echo, who simply smiled and patted his knee comfortingly.

Maybe he _was_ drunk.

But that didn’t stop him from accepting his drink from Rex a few minutes later, nor did it stop him from drinking said drink… only to find that it was water.

Rex laughed at the betrayed expression upon Fives’s face as he took the seat beside Ahsoka. “I got alcohol as well,” he promised. “But you all need to be drinking water, too.”

“It’s not like we have to worry about being hungover in battle tomorrow,” Jesse grumbled.

“You’ll still feel better in the morning,” Ahsoka said, taking a sip from the glass Rex handed her. Leaning back against Kix, she tossed her legs over Rex’s lap with an ease that belied familiarity. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Easy for you to say. You just cleanse your system with the Force.”

“Drink your kriffing water, Jesse,” said Kix, ever the medic, in a tone that brokered no argument.

Jesse drank.

A waitress came by with their ordered drinks shortly after, and – perhaps in retribution – Jesse challenged Rex to see which of them could chug his drink faster. The table devolved into surprised cheering as Rex accepted. Their raucousness caught the nearby tables' attention, and soon they had an audience of every man who had come out with them tonight.

Rex slammed his glass down first, and Fives grinned.

“Wha– but– but you–” Jesse stammered as the crowd began to disperse, many clapping Rex heartily on the back as they returned to their tables. “You _never_ come out with us!”

“I just prefer to leave the bragging rights to the rest of you boys,” Rex said, not at all modestly. “Anyone else wanna go? Fives?”

Fives shook his head. "No, sir, I know enough not to pick a fight I won't win. Actually, I'm gonna go dance for a bit." He slid out of the booth and–

Whoa, okay. His balance was slightly off. Just a little bit.

He didn’t see Ahsoka leave the booth, but it wasn’t long before she pushed her way through the crowd and joined him on the dancefloor. He grinned as she slid in front of him in time with the pulsing beat of the music. She slipped into place as though she belonged there, standing with just enough distance between them to be comfortable, her gaze fixed on a spot somewhere over his shoulder.

It was a dance they had perfected, a reconnaissance technique they had developed for spaces such as these. She watched over his shoulder, and he watched over hers. They had spotted a few of their marks like this. But there was no mark tonight. Not unless…

Fives’s gaze flicked back to the booth they had left, then down at Ahsoka. He grinned and leaned forward.

“He’s looking this way,” he lied.

To his disappointment, Ahsoka didn’t take the bait. “He’s not,” she said confidently, not bothering to check for herself. She glared at him. “Shut up.”

Fives rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on. You’re no fun.”

Ahsoka slowed to a halt. “I’m not trying to be,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “Stop making this worse.”

_Kriff_. Had he actually upset her? He’d known about her crush on Rex for months, and she knew he knew. They’d even talked about it a few times, even if the conversations hadn’t lasted very long. He swore he wouldn’t say anything, and he _hadn’t_. Not really.

Well, in any case, it just wasn’t fun if he was the only one dancing. Standing still and getting jostled by the dancers around them was even less fun. He tapped Ahsoka on the shoulder – their established signal to get off the floor – and indicated for her to follow him.

He led her to the bar, where he promptly ordered them both another drink. “I’m sorry I upset you, So’ika. I didn’t mean to go too far.”

Ahsoka flashed him a small smile. “I know,” she said with a sigh. “I appreciate the support, but… I don’t _want_ him to be looking. You know that. It’d just make things weird, especially since I’m the commanding officer now.”

Fives watched his young general for a long moment, looking away only to accept the drinks from the bartender. Was this a conversation they were having tonight? He certainly hadn't expected it, nor was he particularly thrilled to be having it. Still, they were both kinda drunk– or at least tipsy– and his brothers were occupied on the other side of the dance floor. Kark it. Why not?

He was no Jedi, but he sensed Ahsoka needed to talk about it.

Humming thoughtfully, he took a seat on one of the barstools. “I’ve served with Rex a long time,” he said. “He’s never been interested in anyone.”

Ahsoka sat as well, wrapping her hands around her glass. “Really?”

Fives nodded. “Really. He hardly ever comes out with us, and when he does, I’ve never seen his eyes roam. Even yours do, So’ika. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching the pretty Twi’lek bartender.”

Ahsoka’s lekku squirmed. “You know it doesn’t mean anything.”

“I do,” Fives agreed readily. “But Rex doesn’t even _look_.”

Silence stretched between them as Ahsoka took a long sip of her drink. “What does it matter?” she demanded. “I can’t tell whether you’re trying to encourage me or telling me to give it up.”

Fives laughed. “That’s for you to decide,” he said. “What I’m saying is that, outside the _vod’e_ , you’re the closest relationship he has. And that’s not nothing.”

He opened his mouth to say something more but, even drunk as he was, he stopped himself. There were some things that clones kept close, some things that were truly _theirs_. Ahsoka was about as close as a non-clone could get, but she still wasn’t a clone. Telling her felt wrong in a way few things did.

“Thanks, Fives,” Ahsoka said, an odd glance the only indicator she knew something was amiss. “I think. He’s my best friend, too. Please don’t make that weird.”

“I’m not your best friend?” Fives asked. “After all we’ve been through together? I’m hurt.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. She hit him on the second try. “Shut up. You don’t _count_.”

“Is that… supposed to make me feel better?”

Ahsoka giggled as she stood, wobbling a little on her feet. “Yes. Now let’s head back to the others before they come to find us.”

Yeah, Fives decided as he trailed Ahsoka back to his – _their_ – brothers. It was all worth it, in the end.

* * *

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** It says in the reports that no one else was witness to your final moments with Chancellor Palpatine. Why?

**ARC-5555:** The Chancellor said he wanted me to feel like I had a ‘fair say’ and dismissed everyone else in the room. As soon as I was alone with him… I knew something was wrong.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** What happened in that room?

**ARC-5555:** The Chancellor moved in real close to me– too close for comfort, really. He asked, “Where were we?” and then it was like a switch flipped. I barely recognized him as the same man. He was cold, vicious. Us clones would say hostile.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Get to the point, Fives.

**ARC-5555:** Sorry, ma’am. The Chancellor told me I was right, that I was messing with things I didn’t understand. He said– he said he wouldn’t allow “his plans” to be thwarted by a “mere clone.” Now, I’m a trooper. I’m not scared of much. But the look in his eyes– it terrified me. I’ll never forget it. It was the look of a man who was planning to kill me.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Fives…

**ARC-5555:** Sorry, ma’am. He said it was time for me to learn my place, then laughed and told me to run. He started yelling for the guards, and as I booked it out of there, I heard him accuse me of trying to kill him.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Are you saying that Chancellor Palpatine set you up and framed you for attempted assassination?

**ARC-5555:** That is correct, ma’am.

**ATTORNEY WYNN:** Thank you, Fives. You may sit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Padmé & Artoo commission was done by [@pykozon](https://pykozon.tumblr.com/)! You can find a larger version [here](https://theyreondanatooine.tumblr.com/post/629819969237090304/a-noise-down-the-hall-caught-her-attention) (which we really recommend you see, it's amazing).
> 
> Note from Karma: Padmé's exclamation, "Little fishes," does not belong to us. I believe that, like the _Adamant_ , it came from zinjadu's _Knight Errant_ series, and all credit goes to her. (If I'm wrong, please correct me!) I just really love it because it sounds so Nabooan and fits so well.


	8. Closing Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme and Bail discuss matters, Ahsoka and Rex get their marching orders, and Obi-Wan sits through an audience with Dooku.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know this took forever. The workload this semester for both of us was insane. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Ghostly wrote most of the flashback scene, as well as the closing statements for the trial.
> 
> We hope you find this chapter as spicy as we do!

** 15.05.02 (12 months ago)  
** **10.5 months before Order 66  
** **The _Daybreak,_ Dead Space  
** **1500h**

Fives drifted.

Behind closed eyes lay the essence of a nightmare: unsettling, yet indistinct. There was an idea. A feeling. Something _significant,_ distorted beyond recognition, skewed, and just out of reach. All Fives was truly aware of was the sick feeling in his chest and the thick, heavy haze that blanketed his mind.

Stationary freefall.

Falling and falling.

Tumbling downw a r d s…

A biting cold nipped his bones. The sensation demanded attention as it bled into fractured consciousness. Half-formed thoughts blinked in before flitting away, ephemeral and fleeting.

Between one moment and the next, Fives realized his eyes were open.

His consciousness took its sweet time catching up to his body. For an indeterminate time, he floated between worlds. There, staring blankly at the familiar durasteel of the ceiling, he felt a strange sense of peace. Both a minute and an eon passed before the unease began to settle in again.

Thinking was… difficult. It, too, was enshrouded in fog. After what felt like another lifetime of floundering, bleary and half-coherent, Fives found he was finally able to construct a question and hold it at the forefront of his mind.

_Where am I?_

The details of his surroundings slowly began to register as he shivered. The cold was inescapable. Familiar. The metallic odor of recycled air hit his nostrils.

He was on a ship.

In space.

Okay. That wasn’t… _totally_ unusual. Fives had been on lots of ships. But this ship… _Stang_ , he didn’t recognize this ship! Above him was durasteel, but he realized now it was not the durasteel of the berths he shared with his brothers. His neck protested as he looked to the side. He was in a single berth, set into the wall of the ship.

Okay. That was one question answered… _kind_ of.

_How did I get here?_

Fives tried to think. It was easier now, but he was missing time. A vague memory welled in his mind. He’d woken up earlier, he was pretty sure, but it felt like it had been a dream. A dream of years past. A dream of… orange?

Still woozy, he pushed himself to his elbows to get a better view of the room. It looked like a medbay, but it was much smaller than the one he was familiar with on the _Adamant._ As his senses returned to him in full, he recognized the pungent smell of bacta and chemical stabilizers.

No, he wasn’t on the _Adamant_. This felt more like the small medbay on Kamino.

Kamino!

Fives bolted upright. Tup! Where was–?

He remembered only a moment too late. Tup wasn't here, and he never would be again. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, building until they traced chilled paths down his cheeks as he uttered the Remembrance.

Wait. But if Tup was dead, then…

The recollection barreled into him. He’d gone to Coruscant. He’d gone to Coruscant to… to tell the Chancellor. They’d strapped him down, which he’d only accepted because he didn’t want to give them any more reason to distrust him, and then…

A prick. Pain rushing through his veins. The face of that kriffing longneck looking down at him with dispassionate eyes. His memory blurred after that. He’d seen the Chancellor… he thought. He also saw… Kix? Rex? Skywalker?

It didn’t matter. Fives took a deep breath. He knew two things:

  1. Somebody poisoned him and likely wanted him dead.
  2. He was on an unfamiliar ship, in space.



From the evidence, he came to one conclusion: he was in danger.

Was he a hostage? He’d assume so, but he didn’t seem to be restrained apart from the IV stuck into his arm and the heart monitor plastered to his chest. He ripped the monitor off before carefully disengaging the IV. The memory of Kix yelling at far too many brothers stopped him short from ripping that out as well.

His legs shook as he stood, the chill of the durasteel floor piercing through thin socks. He wasn’t wearing his kit. Instead, he was dressed only in a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweats that didn’t quite fit. A frantic investigation of the medbay didn't reveal his gear, but he did find a wicked-looking surgical knife.

It would have to do.

Fives crept out of the medbay, wincing at the hiss of the doors. He didn’t know _who_ else was on this ship, but they were about to have a very bad day. One couldn’t kidnap ARC-5555 and expect to get away with it.

Even if his knees were weak. Even if the hand that grasped the knife trembled. Even if his head was cloudy. The inkling of fear he’d so far suppressed crawled up into his throat, and he swallowed hard.

This wasn't any sort of ship he recognized, but they were all laid out about the same once they were a certain size. This was clearly a personal ship, not a _Venator_ -class or even a cruiser. Perhaps a light freighter? It was old, but there wasn’t much of anything by way of personal effects. No, this was a recently purchased ship.

Fives reached the cockpit, resettled his grip on the knife, and opened the door.

There was only one person in the cockpit, seated in the pilot’s chair. He could take one person, especially one as small as… she?

Blue.

White.

_Orange._

She had her back turned to him, but he’d recognize those striped montrals anywhere.

“Ah _soka?_ ”

The figure turned, and, indeed, it was his commander. He dropped his guard and staggered. She looked a little older than the last time he saw her, even though it had only been a couple months, but it was definitely her.

What? How? She _left!_

“Fives! You’re up!” She leapt to her feet and rushed to support him, slinging his arm around her shoulders. The knife fell from limp fingers and hit the grate with a metallic _ding_. “I was so worried. It was really touch and go there for a while.”

Touch and… go? Oh, right. The poison.

Fives sank gratefully into the copilot’s chair. With the adrenaline gone, his limbs felt like nothing more than overcooked noodles. “Yeah, the longneck, Nala Se, she–” he waved his hand dismissively– “she drugged me with something. I don’t know what.”

Ahsoka sat back in the pilot's chair and sighed. "Whatever it was, it was nasty. It's been a few days, standard. I had to put you on a low dose of sedatives as it worked its way out of your bloodstream; you would've hurt yourself otherwise. Thankfully, Rex put me in contact with Kix, and he helped me through it."

Fives nodded slowly. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. But… what are you _doing_ here, Commander? You–”

“Left. Yeah, I know. You really shouldn’t call me Commander.” Ahsoka dropped her gaze and hugged her arms to her chest. “I didn’t go far. I’ve been on Coruscant since I left the Temple. Rex… Rex knew where I was. He called me right after Kix contacted him. Told me something strange was up.”

She took a deep breath and met his eyes, one brow raised. “You didn’t _really_ try to kill the Chancellor, did you?”

That was the final piece to the puzzle. Fives stared at her in horror as he recalled the Chancellor telling him he was _right_ , then calling the guards.

"No!" he said, realizing his silence was incriminating. Before he knew it, the whole story came tumbling out. Later, he would be ashamed. He was an ARC trooper, a damn good one. He knew how to give a solid report without stumbling over facts. The rambling, backtracking… _mess_ that spilled from his lips was nothing like the sort. At least it was still more coherent than what he vaguely remembered spouting at Rex and Skywalker.

Ahsoka regarded him with a solemn gaze as he finished. Her arms crossed and her lips pursed, she tapped a finger against her upper arm as she thought. "This is… concerning."

Fives scoffed. “You think?”

“Just a guess,” Ahsoka shot back, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She heaved a sigh. “Okay. Suspicious brain chip. Government coverup. The Jedi in danger. The Republic – or at least the Chancellor – possibly in on it.” She ticked each item off on her fingers. “Sounds like we’re on our own for this one. So much for a peaceful retirement…”

"Definitely," Fives said, unable to laugh at her quip. "Definitely in on it." The notion they couldn't go to the Republic for help – after everything he'd _done_ for the Republic – was finally starting to sink in.

Would he ever see his brothers again?

He pushed the thought aside. “Where… are we, anyway? Whose ship is this?”

Ahsoka smiled and tapped a knuckle against the hull. “This is my ship, the _Daybreak_. I bought her with the last of my GAR credits. As for where we _are_ –" she leaned forward and flipped a switch on the dashboard. "Well, we're drifting in space right now. I set a random vector and made a hyperspace jump as soon as we got away from Coruscant. We've been traveling at sub-light speed for about two days now. Hopefully, it'll change our vector enough to throw anyone off our tail."

She paused, then looked at him. “How do you feel about Takodana?”

Takodana? “I’ve… never been, sir.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Just Ahsoka, please. I'm not GAR anymore, and… neither are you." She spoke the last part gently, then continued. "I've been trying to figure out where we can lay low for a while, since you're a wanted fugitive and all. Takodana’s Mid-Rim, over in the Western Reaches. According to Master Obi-Wan, it’s got a bit of a… reputation.”

Fives nodded. “Sounds like a place we might be able to get some answers. With any luck, they’ll think we’ve gone to ground on Coruscant, but if they realize we got off-planet, they’ll check the Outer Rim first.” A horrifying realization swept over him. “Commander… you were cleared of all charges. Did you just become a wanted criminal again? For me?”

Ahsoka smirked, but Fives caught a glimpse of something sad behind her eyes. “They didn’t see me, and this ship is registered to a false name. If Rex and Anakin keep their mouths shut, it should be hard for them to put two and two together. But if they do…” She shrugged. “Then, yeah. I guess I did.”

“You shouldn’t have–”

“This is important, Fives,” Ahsoka said firmly. “I felt it when Rex commed me. I still feel it now.” She took a deep breath, then released it. “Master Windu used to talk about shatterpoints– moments that could significantly alter the course of the future. Some of the more powerful Jedi can sense them in the Force. I’ve never been able to, but… I think saving you might have been one.”

Fives blinked, taken aback, then smiled and shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it. Whatever the reason… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Ahsoka said, turning to program the coordinates for Takodana and initiate the jump to hyperspace. “Let’s see what else we can find out about those chips of yours, first.”

“Yes, sir– Um. Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka grinned. “Do you want to do the honors?

Fives leaned forward and – with much more of a future ahead of him than he thought he had even an hour ago – threw the lever.

* * *

"Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished lifeforms of the Republic. This past week, we have laid out the evidence that condemns Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of the crimes he committed: high treason, three counts of murder, and one count of attempted murder. We reviewed the documentation detailing his paper trail and found missing funds, consolidation of power under his office, and direct financial ties with Republic senators. Furthermore, we heard testimony from key influences in the Clone Wars, including the Kaminoans who provided the clone army, a clone who fought on the frontlines, the Vice-Chair who acted in league with Palpatine, and even Count Dooku himself.…"

* * *

** 16.08.12 (Present Day) **  
**2.5 months after Order 66**  
**Dex’s Diner**  
**1100h**

_Empire._

It was the word on everyone’s lips.

_Empire._

Padmé shrank into the booth at Dex’s Diner and pulled her grey maintenance worker’s cap lower down her face. Reluctant to worry Anakin any further, she had asked Obi-Wan if he knew a of good place on Coruscant to meet with someone discreetly. Obi-Wan had met her request with a raised eyebrow but recommended the diner in Coco Town.

_Empire._

Perhaps she should have specified someplace _quiet_ , but it was too late now. Padmé sat and listened.

A Rodian woman sitting beside her husband at the counter scoffed into her caf. “I _knew_ giving the Chancellor all those emergency powers wasn’t going to end well! Didn’t I say so, Karrl? I did! Bah! Empire, indeed.”

“The Republic’s only a shadow of what it once was,” a surly man at the end of the counter said to the large Besalisk Padmé assumed to Dex. “It’s a disgrace! We needed some real change around here, and Palpatine knew it. An empire wouldn’t have let all those Separatist planets slip through its fingers. We wouldn’t be fighting this war in the first place!”

“Empire or Republic, what does it matter?” a Mon Cala woman asked her friend. “The streets would still need cleaning, and we’d still be cleaning them.”

Padmé sighed. Mas Amedda’s testimony the day before had brought the senate floor to a grinding halt. Chatter exploded, and it took the grim-faced judge from Mandalore several minutes to call the court back to order.

With nothing else to occupy her time as she waited, Padmé watched the holoscreen as it replayed the events of the day prior. Despite the fact Amedda was called to testify about the nature of the confrontation between Fives and the Chancellor, the holonews cycle focused instead on his unexpected admission.

“We had an arrangement,” Amedda said brusquely onscreen in answer to one of Attorney Wynn’s questions. “I viewed us as business partners. Chancellor Palpatine could not reach a position of supreme power without support in the Senate. I played a large role in giving him that support.”

“What did you get out of this arrangement?” Wynn asked.

Amedda hesitated. “I was promised a high government position in his new… empire.”

The hushed whispers of the senators were audible even in the holorecording. To her credit, Attorney Wynn didn’t even flinch. “What do you mean by ‘empire’?”

Amedda looked as though he’d just eaten something particularly sour as he replied: “Chancellor Palpatine was plotting to consolidate the powers of the Republic during the Clone Wars in order to take executive control at the war’s end. He intended to reform the Galactic Republic into the Galactic Empire… with himself as Emperor.”

“And he should’ve done it sooner!” the man at the counter exclaimed as the senate chamber in the holo burst into an uproar.

“Aw, shut up, bootlicker!” the Rodian woman shouted back. She made to stand, but her husband – Karrl – clamped a hand over her shoulder to keep her in her seat. “Read a history book, would ya?”

Padmé shook her head as Dex himself stepped in to break up the fight. Her gaze fell to the table. Senator Palpatine had been one of her most trusted advisors during her tenure as queen. Once upon a time, she wouldn't have believed the kind man had such dark ambitions.

She tapped her fingers absently against the datapad she held. Now, she wasn’t so surprised.

The holonews played on. “So, Chancellor Palpatine did not intend to relinquish his emergency powers?” Attorney Wynn clarified.

“That is correct,” Amedda said. “It was all part of the plan.”

It made Padmé sick.

"Hey. I'm sorry, I'm late." The familiar voice drew her from her dark thoughts, and she looked up to see Bail Organa sliding into the booth across from her. He, too, was dressed as a Coruscanti layman. “The Delegation is in a bit of an uproar this morning, as I’m sure you can imagine. I couldn’t lose my aides long enough to change.”

Padmé could’ve smacked herself. The Delegation of Two Thousand. How could she forget? They’d formed the committee to petition Chancellor Palpatine to relinquish the very emergency powers Mas Amedda just confirmed Palpatine had no intention of giving up. What a _mess_.

She felt a rush of guilt for her recent distance from the politics she once had a hand in forming. In her defense, though, she’d had other things to worry about.

"You found something, then," Bail said in the face of her silence. His countenance was as severe as she'd ever seen it. "You wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to meet out here if you hadn't."

Padmé pursed her lips and picked up the datapad. She hesitated, tapping the corner of the ‘pad against the tabletop. She had wanted to tell him everything, but now that he was here…

“I shouldn’t show this to you,” she said. “What I did… it was illegal, and you’re on the jury. If they find out you knew about this before the vote–”

“They won’t,” Bail said. “Padmé, I saw those accounts. Whatever this is, it’s too big for you to carry alone.”

With a heavy sigh, Padmé handed over the datapad.

As Bail read through the information she'd gathered, Padmé leaned back in her seat and observed the other diner patrons. Neither of the earlier commentators had been thrown out, but each seethed at their respective end of the counter. As Padmé watched, the Rodian woman and her husband paid their bill and left.

It was strange, she realized, being out here amongst the ordinary people. Padmé often forgot just how privileged her life was; how unlike the lives of her constituents it was. Coruscant was not Naboo, but its people were the same. They were _people_ , just living their lives, who were both affected and yet largely unaffected by the everyday goings-on in the Senate chamber.

Was that where it had all fallen down? Did senators spend so much time on Coruscant that they became disconnected from their people and subsequently mistook what was best for themselves as best for their constituents?

Palpatine’s machinations had destabilized the democracy the Republic stood for, but he would not have gotten as far as he did if there hadn’t already been an opening for him to do so.

Bail let out a low whistle. “By the Mother. Padmé, this is–”

“Bad,” Padmé finished. “I know.”

Bail tossed the datapad away. It clattered against the table as he heaved a sigh and leaned forward. With his elbows on the table, he massaged his temples, then ran a hand down his face as he sat up again.

“We were never meant to win this war,” he said gravely.

“No,” Padmé agreed. “We weren’t. I don’t think the Separatists were meant to win, either. The only winner in all this… would have been Palpatine.”

Bail nodded slowly. “The Senate voted to fund this project because we were led to believe the Separatists were developing this very weapon and the Republic needed something to match it. If we won the war… who would there be for the Republic to use it on but its own people? The timeline of this project alone– there’s no way it’s being built for use in this war.”

He had come to the very same conclusions she had. This wasn't a weapon of war. It was a weapon of fear and control, built for and capable of mass destruction. Padmé had wondered about its existence the day before. Why would the Republic need such a thing?

The Republic _didn’t_ need it. The Empire would.

Padmé leaned over the table. “We have to do something about it,” she said, her voice hushed against the dull roar of the diner. “This thing is a crime against democracy. We _cannot_ allow it to be completed.”

Bail rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The accounts were released publicly. That is, after all, how we discovered this project in the first place. We _could_ set forth a motion on the floor for a full investigation.”

Padmé sighed. “Normally, I would agree with you, Bail. But as things stand right now, I doubt we would get the votes to devote resources to such an investigation. And what guarantee would we have that the investigation would result in getting the project shut down? If the deal with Dooku goes through, we’re looking at a galactic schism. I know plenty of senators who would want to complete this thing as a deterrent to the Separatists.”

“Unfortunately, so do I,” Bail said. “Still, there _must_ be a diplomatic resolution. Perhaps we could speak with Interim Chancellor Taneel?”

“Terr Taneel has no real power,” Padmé countered. “She’s only a figurehead until elections can be held. Nobody still loyal to Palpatine will listen to her.”

Bail eyed her sternly. “Padmé, no. Getting these files from Senator Taa’s office was one thing. You _cannot_ act on this on your own.”

"We can't afford not to act!" Padmé exclaimed. "You saw the plans. It's still in the early stages of construction. It would be much easier to shut it down now than to try to shut it down once it's further along."

“What you speak of is treason,” Bail hissed.

Padmé set her jaw. “Perhaps so.”

Bail was right. Destroying the DS-1 Orbital Battle Station – should she, by some miracle, find a way to do so – _would_ be treason. It would be the kind of treason that, if discovered, would have her executed. With a measured breath, Padmé clasped her hands so Bail wouldn’t see their slight tremble.

“This isn’t like you, Padmé,” Bail said after a long moment, his voice markedly gentler. “What’s wrong?”

Padmé drew a shaky breath. “I just… I see those plans, and what this thing could be, and what that could mean and… Bail, I don’t want my children to grow up in a galaxy where they have to fear something like that. I love the Republic, I do, but I will do whatever it takes to make this galaxy a better place for them.”

She had learned very early in her career that she sometimes needed to take matters into her own hands. She wasn’t afraid to do it then. She wouldn’t be afraid to do it now. 

Bail nodded slowly. “As will I.”

What?

“What do you mean?”

Bail’s gaze drifted to the table. “I have been debating for some time now whether to accept the Core faction nomination for the upcoming Chancery election.”

“You’ve been nominated? I had no idea. Congratulations!” The earlier sense of guilt returned. Had she been so caught up in her own life that she had ignored her friend’s?

“I haven’t exactly been broadcasting the news,” Bail said with a small chuckle. “I was very tempted to hand the nomination off to Mon. I’m already away from home more than Breha would like.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“Life would be easier if I did, but no. After what you’ve told me, I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t do all I could to set the Republic back on the right path.”

Padmé smiled as she grabbed the datapad off the table and slid it back into the satchel she carried. "You and me both," she said. Even if they had two very different ideas of going about it, they could agree on that. "Now, do you have anything pressing you need to attend to?"

“Not for another couple hours,” Bail said. “Court doesn’t reconvene until later. Why?”

Padmé gestured to the diner around them. “While we’re here, would you like to get lunch?”

Bail laughed. “I would love to. Tell me how little Leia and her brother are doing.”

* * *

“… Every given testimony points toward a pair of Sith Lords. They sought to overthrow our democratic Republic and install an Empire built on subjugation, fear, and control. The situation is bizarre, indeed, and while it may be difficult to comprehend, it happened all the same. We are fortunate that the Republic still stands today, and we must become better in order to keep it that way. Distinguished lifeforms of the Republic, your decision on this matter will not be the last step in repairing a system that almost broke, but it will be the first. Thank you.”

\- Prosecuting Attorney Lessa Wynn (h. Ryloth)

 _Galactic Republic v. Palpatine_  
Closing Statement given 16.08.12

* * *

Ahsoka stood outside the barracks. Clasping opposite elbows behind her back, she resisted the urge to bounce on the balls of her feet. She was a general now, not just a high-strung Padawan. She needed to appear professional to the men. Still, she struggled to contain her excitement.

The 501st would get its marching orders today.

While she didn’t want to leave Anakin and Obi-Wan and Padmé and the twins, Ahsoka was eager to get back out into the field. Coruscant was boring. After two full weeks planetside with nothing to fill her time but flimsiwork and occasionally babysitting, she could feel herself going a little stir-crazy. She knew her men felt the same way. Palpatine's trial was necessary, and Ahsoka understood more than most just how much Fives needed to be here for it, but his part in the proceedings was now over.

They were free to go.

Ahsoka grinned as Rex exited the barracks, bouncing only twice. Rex returned her grin when he spotted her, and she ignored the traitorous flutter of her heart.

Fives’s words from the night before returned to her. _“Outside the_ vod’e, _you’re the closest relationship he has.”_

She pushed the memory aside as Rex walked up. It had no place in the here and now.

“Someone looks like she woke up on the right side of the berth this morning,” Rex quipped, blissfully ignorant of her thoughts. “You’re not usually so chipper this early.”

“Early?” Ahsoka raised a brow. She knew Rex was aware of the time. “Rexter, it’s past noon. I asked the Council to delay our briefing specifically so you and the boys would have time to recover from last night.”

“Ah, right. So _we_ could recover. Your own recovery time had nothing to do with it?”

“Nope,” Ahsoka chirped, perhaps a little too brightly. “I had the Force to help me.”

Rex nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes as they set off toward the Temple. “Okay, maybe I was a _little_ slow getting started this morning.”

"Were you now? I never would have guessed, sir."

Abandoning all decorum, Ahsoka pushed him.

“Hey!”

Ahsoka laughed and skipped forward a few steps before composing herself again. Glancing back over her shoulder, she caught Rex shaking his head as he lengthened his stride to catch up to her.

It felt almost like old times.

Since her return to the 501st, Rex had been far more formal with her than he was before she left. It wasn’t that he was keeping her at arm’s length – late nights aboard the _Adamant_ with a dram of Corellian whiskey between them abolished that motion – but rather that he treated her more like a superior than an equal. Than a friend.

Ahsoka begrudgingly supposed it made sense, in a way. She had always ranked higher, but it was balanced by the fact he had more experience. That balance shifted when she left the GAR and the chain of command. It shifted again when she oversaw the 501st on Mandalore, then became its general.

She wasn’t sure Rex was even aware of what he was doing, and she hadn’t wanted to draw his attention to it and make him self-conscious. Thankfully, he had relaxed in the weeks since their arrival on Naboo. The downtime, even filled with meetings as it had been since they set foot on Coruscant, gave them time to truly relax for the first time since Mandalore. Perhaps even the first time since Christophsis.

Ahsoka liked to think they’d finally regained their equilibrium.

“Come on,” she said once they settled into a comfortable pace, “You can’t tell me you aren’t at least a _little_ excited.”

Rex failed to suppress a smile. “Yeah,” he said, “I suppose I am. Us clones weren’t built to sit around like this.”

Ah, clone humor. Ahsoka giggled before sobering. “Where do you think we’re going to end up?”

Rex didn't respond immediately, but she could tell from how he tilted his head slightly that he was thinking about it. "Commander Gree and the 41st Elite are still fighting the Separatists on Kashyyyk," he said after some consideration. "But with all the help they're getting from the Wookies, I doubt we’ll be needed there.”

“Probably not,” Ahsoka agreed, remembering the Wookies she met during her run-in with the Trandoshans.

Rex mused over a few of the other reports they’d read over the last two weeks before concluding with, “The Republic is still trying to secure the Perlemian Trade Route. Commander Bly and the 327th have been mired down on Felucia for months.”

Ahsoka shuddered. “Ugh. Felucia.” She didn’t envy Master Secura for _that_ assignment. The planet was pretty, but the humidity and the fungi made it awful down on the ground.

“Mandalore wasn’t the worst place we could’ve been stuck for two months,” Rex said with a smile.

“You have a point there.”

The conversation gave way to a comfortable silence as they walked. Ahsoka tried not to let her thoughts wander, but she found herself thinking back to her conversation with Fives again and again.

Rex was her best friend. She was his. That was all that mattered.

Taking a deep breath, she released her feelings into the Force.

Rex fell back to her right shoulder as they approached the Temple. Ahsoka hadn’t felt nervous on the walk over, but jitters washed over her as she set foot upon the steps. Since being promoted, she’d attended meetings and filed flimsiwork like nobody's business, but there was a considerable difference between administrative work and fieldwork.

Was she ready?

Could she do this?

She wasn’t even a _Jedi._

Clasping her hands tightly behind her back, she straightened her spine and raised her chin. Rex’s presence at her shoulder was a comfort, his steady footsteps a reassurance. She may not be able to do it alone, but they could do it together.

They arrived at the briefing room shortly after. Master Obi-Wan, Cody, Master Plo, and Commander Wolffe were already there, crowding around the large holotable. Master Secura and Commander Bly stood before them in the holoprojection.

“Look at that,” Rex said, low enough that only her montrals picked up his words. “Felucia.”

Ahsoka stifled both a groan and the urge to smack him.

“Good afternoon, Masters, Commanders,” she said instead, stepping down into the briefing room. “Sorry for making you wait.”

It was weird, standing in the briefing room with neither Master Windu nor Master Yoda there to give the orders. Again, she felt a twinge of regret for how she spoke to Master Windu the last time she saw him. She knew Yoda lived, although she was pretty sure Master Plo was the only one who knew where he went.

“No need, little one,” Master Plo said. “You are not late; we were merely early.”

For the first time in her life, Ahsoka bristled at Master Plo’s affectionate diminutive. Little one? She was a full general, same as them, now. Swallowing her irritation, she nodded and folded her arms across her body. “What’s the situation?”

Master Obi-Wan stepped up. “Aayla has accepted a nomination to the High Council,” he said. “Unfortunately, as the situation on Felucia has not yet been resolved, we cannot recall the 327th from the field.”

“We are close,” Master Secura interjected. “We believe we need only one final push to take the Separatist stronghold, but my men are tired, and we have suffered great losses.”

“Congratulations on the nomination, Master,” Ahsoka said.

“Thank you, Ahsoka.”

“We need the 501st to reinforce the 327th and make that final push to defeat the Separatists on Felucia,” Master Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard. “I’m afraid we’re running out of time. We _must_ secure the planet before a ceasefire agreement is negotiated and signed.”

Ahsoka stared at him in disbelief as Rex shifted his weight behind her. “You really think the Republic and the Confederacy are going to come to an agreement? What, we’re just going to let them _have_ the planets they’ve already invaded?”

Master Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. Stars, he looked tired. Ahsoka wasn't privy to all the details surrounding the Council and what was left of the Order, and suddenly, she was glad for it. The war had taken its toll on everyone, and she felt a fresh wave of concern for her grandmaster.

“A rapidly negotiated ceasefire agreement was decided upon in the terms regarding Count Dooku’s testimony to the Senate,” Master Plo explained. “While the actual agreement has yet to be discussed by both parties, we must be prepared to cede ground.”

Ahsoka seethed. The freedom of Count Dooku should never have been under consideration. The Galactic Republic did not legally recognize the Confederacy of Independent Systems. As such, Dooku _should_ have been held and tried as a traitor to the Republic. It was what he deserved.

Besides, if Dooku went free and the Confederacy established itself as a recognized government, then what had she been fighting for all these years? What had she sacrificed her little remaining childhood for?

Master Obi-Wan shot her a warning look, and Ahsoka deflated. Anger would not help her here; what was done was done. In the grand scheme of things, convicting Palpatine and laying the groundwork for the reconstruction of their democracy _was_ more important.

“Right,” she said. “Of course. When do we ship out?”

“As soon as possible, I’m afraid,” Master Plo said. “Admiral Yularen has been notified, and the _Adamant_ will be prepared for sortie in two days’ time.”

Wasn’t that supposed to be her responsibility?

“We will draft a full brief to give you upon your arrival,” Master Secura said. “Now, forgive me, Masters, Commanders, Ahsoka. I have other business I must attend to.”

Once Master Secura ended the holocall, Master Obi-Wan turned to Ahsoka. “This is a large assignment, even for an experienced leader,” he said. “You will, essentially, be commanding two battalions. Commander Bly will stay behind to assist you, and of course, you'll have Commander Rex as well." He nodded to the man standing at her shoulder.

“Master,” Ahsoka said, losing some of the professional stiffness in her spine, “All due respect, but… I’ve been commanding battalions _almost_ as long as you have. I can do this.”

Master Obi-Wan smiled. “I never said you couldn’t. But if you find yourself needing advice, Master Plo and I will be only a holocall away. As will Anakin.”

He may technically have been her grandmaster, but he had always been more of a second master to her. It was never more apparent than in moments like these.

Ahsoka nodded. “Thank you, Masters. May we be dismissed? If we’re leaving so soon, Rex and I should go tell the men.”

“Of course, Little ‘Soka,” Master Plo said. “May the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka echoed the sentiment and nodded to Cody and Commander Wolffe, neither of whom had contributed much to the conversation. Not there was much _to_ contribute, she realized. It sounded like she and the 501st wouldn’t be getting a full brief until they reached Felucia.

In any case, she told Master Obi-Wan that she could handle it, and she would.

Somehow.

* * *

“Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished lifeforms of the jury. While there is a case to be made against Chancellor Palpatine, it must be emphasized that the evidence paints an incomplete picture. How much of this speculation and testimony describes exactly what happened, and how much of it is a convenient filling-in of the blanks? How much should we trust the Separatists that spoke here this week, or those who admitted to being allied with their cause? If the allegations of corruption in the Senate are true, then the real issue does not begin or end with a single man; however, some parties may benefit if we decide it does.…”

* * *

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Obi-Wan said as the door hissed shut.

Plo Koon raised his brows. “You do not believe she can handle this assignment?”

“Oh, no. I do,” Obi-Wan reassured him. “Ahsoka has shown a greater aptitude for the battlefield than most of the masters and knights I know, but I don’t like this. She is far too young to be given such a great responsibility. Traditionally, she wouldn’t be a full knight for another eight years. It’s not fair to her.” Beside him, Cody nodded in agreement.

Plo hummed thoughtfully as they left the briefing room. “Little ‘Soka has always been a… unique case,” he said diplomatically. “She had difficulty, growing up in the creche.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He had never paid much attention to the younglings in the creche, especially after taking Anakin as a Padawan. Still, the fact that Ahsoka was fourteen when she came to him and Anakin spoke for itself. Most younglings were chosen as Padawans before they turned thirteen. If it weren’t for the fact the Service Corps programs were suspended in the early years of the war…

Well. He knew what it was like to be on the verge of aging out of the Temple, having once been faced with the prospect himself. After Anakin was knighted, he had requested a new Padawan, an older Padawan, determined to do for someone else what Qui-Gon once did for him.

And, in a sense, he had– even if Ahsoka had technically been assigned to Anakin instead.

“Most of the Order lost its way in is war,” Obi-Wan said. “We were trained to be negotiators, to be peacekeepers. Becoming soldiers as we did was antithetical to everything we were taught we stood for.” He raised a hand in farewell to Cody and Wolffe as they peeled off to return to the barracks.

“But Little ‘Soka never knew otherwise, at least not when it counted,” Plo said, following Obi-Wan’s train of thought. The younglings were given instruction, sure, but it was common knowledge that none of the teachings actually _stuck_ until their Padawan years. "This war, both the physicality of it and the stakes at hand… it allowed her to find herself."

Ahsoka never would have become a Jedi if it weren’t for the war. Of course, the argument could be made that she _still_ wasn’t a Jedi, but Obi-Wan disagreed. He had fought beside her. He had seen her restraint just now in the briefing room. She was a Jedi in all but name.

Obi-Wan sighed. “If only we could all be so lucky.”

Together, they made their way toward the Council chamber. The Temple was beginning to get a little bit of its life back as the damage it sustained in the attack was repaired. Without the visual reminder of the trauma, Obi-Wan could almost pretend everything was as it used to be.

Almost. The gaping hole in the Force would never allow him to forget entirely.

“Are you ready for this meeting?” Plo enquired, cutting into Obi-Wan’s thoughts. “He is, technically, your grandmaster.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said shortly. “But it must be done.”

For all he had warned Ahsoka to keep her temper over Dooku’s release in the briefing room, Obi-Wan couldn’t say he disagreed with her. He understood Dooku’s testimony was critical to the prosecution and that there was little else the Republic could use to bargain for it, but… still. The man was directly responsible for the secession of thousands of star systems and the deaths of countless Republic citizens.

And they were going to just let him walk free? Not only that, but they would legitimize the Confederacy? Obi-Wan was not _entirely_ opposed to the idea. It would likely bring a quicker, more peaceful end to the war, after all. Still… _this_ was what the Jedi Order had sacrificed its values for?

Obi-Wan released his frustrations with a sigh. Nodding to Plo, he composed himself before stepping into the Council chamber and taking his seat.

“I still believe we should not have granted Dooku this audience,” Ki-Adi Mundi declared as Plo sat down. “It goes against everything this Order stands for.”

“I agree with Master Mundi,” Shaak Ti said, placidly. “What is there to be gained from this?”

“What is there to lose?” Plo countered. “Dooku was the one who requested to speak with us. I am quite curious to hear what he has to say.”

“What if he only wants to weaken us further?” Ki-Adi asked. “Even without his lightsaber, he could easily attack any one of us.”

“Right after he got out of prison?” Obi-Wan found himself interjecting. “He will value his freedom far too much to risk losing it again.” Across the room, Kit Fisto nodded along to his words.

“We may have our disagreements, but we _must_ present a united front,” Stass Allie said. “No matter what.”

Chastened, the Council sat in silence for the remaining minutes until footsteps sounded outside the door. Two guards filed in and took their places. Count Dooku walked in immediately after.

Obi-Wan cast a critical eye over the man. Two and a half months in prison had done little to temper his haughty attitude. Even with his wrists cuffed and dressed in standard-issue beige robes, Dooku stood with his back straight and his chin up. He looked down his nose at the Council as though he were above them all.

Bastard.

“Count,” Plo said.

“Masters.”

The Council waited for Dooku to speak. A heartbeat passed. Two. Three. Five. Ten. It soon became clear he had no intention of continuing.

Plo cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence. “Why did you request this audience?”

Dooku feigned a surprised expression. “Must I have a reason to request a meeting with old friends?” He said _friends_ like Anakin used to say _womp_ _rats_ : dismissively, yet with heartfelt derision. “By now, you must have realized which way the winds are blowing. This galactic schism was inevitable.”

Obi-Wan tensed. Several members of the Council flinched. Going by the self-satisfied look in Dooku’s eye, the word choice was deliberate. He knew as well as they of the Great Schisms that led to the New Sith Wars nearly two thousand years before. More recently, the Order weathered a smaller schism three years ago when hundreds of Jedi refused to serve in the Republic Army.

Obi-Wan hadn’t agreed with them at the time. Now, he wondered if they’d been right.

“Inevitable only because you made it so, Count,” Shaak Ti said. “Or did you forget about your own hand in the matter?”

“Not at all,” Dooku said, unshaken. “But make no mistake. Had I not played my part, Lord Sidious still would have enacted his plan. This is not of _my_ doing.”

“From a certain point of view,” Obi-Wan said.

Dooku met Obi-Wan’s eyes and dipped his head in acknowledgement. “From a certain point of view,” he said, “it is the Jedi who are at fault.”

“That is ridiculous!” Ki-Adi exclaimed. “We were dragged into this mess!”

Dooku sneered. “You _would_ say that. You are so blinded by the Jedi creed, so _confident_ that because you listen to the Force, you are just and right, that you ignore everything that suggests otherwise. I once believed in what the Order stood for, but you are no more than the Senate's lapdogs.”

He turned to face each of the Council members in turn, his gaze lingering on Obi-Wan for a second longer than the rest. “I could see how corrupt the Senate was becoming, how beholden to corporate interests it was at detriment to people’s lives. _Something_ needed to change. I could _create_ that change.”

“By pledging your allegiance to a Sith Lord,” Kit said.

“By creating a government built upon those very corporate interests you condemn,” Obi-Wan added.

“Lord Sidious only gave me the direction I needed to act upon my vision and move this galaxy forward,” Dooku stated. “He removed the blinders and shackles the Jedi placed upon me and showed me the path to _true_ power. That I had to rely upon the corporate entities to lay the foundation of the Confederacy was… unfortunate, indeed.”

“He used you only to seek his own ambitions,” Stass cut in. “You testified yourself that Sidious sought to destabilize the galaxy enough to seize power and make himself Emperor. If you really believe there would have been room for you in that galaxy, _you’re_ the one with blinders on.”

“Sidious _did_ command Anakin to kill you,” Obi-Wan mentioned. He had been unconscious at the time, but Anakin told him about it afterward.

Dooku’s eyes narrowed. He may have begun this meeting with the upper hand, but he was losing it quickly.

“The point remains,” Dooku said, recovering himself, “that this galaxy now has two factions at play: your Galactic Republic and my Confederacy of Independent Systems. Regardless of how Lord Sidious intended the situation to play out, it has come to this. I am wholeheartedly devoted to establishing the Confederacy as a legitimate, recognized political entity.”

“You want the power,” Ki-Adi accused.

“Yes,” Dooku agreed mildly. “And I want what’s best for my people.”

Obi-Wan had his doubts, but he kept them in reserve. “This is all well and good, Dooku,” he said, “but why have you come before us? The Republic has already negotiated your terms of release, and I believe they even acquired you a ship. There is no reason for you to linger here.”

“Oh, but there is," Dooku said. "The Jedi pride themselves on being for the good of the galaxy, yet have too long been interwoven with the Galactic Senate and its politics. That can no longer be the case in this new political climate. What of the Force-sensitives born into the Confederacy? I cannot condone sending them to the Republic to be trained.”

Plo’s surprise was clear to anyone who knew what to look for. “I would have thought you’d insist on training them yourself and founding your own order.”

“Yes, that is what I would prefer,” Dooku said dryly. “Yet, I cannot train apprentices, found an order, and lead the government all on my own. In addition, most of my constituents are unaware that I am trained in the Force, and I believe most would be hesitant to give their children to one trained in the Dark. The Jedi Order is a flawed organization, but it has a… reputation… that is difficult to compete with.”

Obi-Wan could not deny the fact that he, too, was surprised.

“What would you have us do?” Plo asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“The Jedi _must_ pull away from the Republic and declare neutrality. Oh, don't give me that look. Historically, the Order was an apolitical entity. It was only after the Old Republic fell and the New Republic took its place that the Jedi began associating more closely with the government. You would be welcomed by Confederacy planets and receive support from the Republic and the Confederacy alike."

Obi-Wan exchanged glances with his fellow Council members. He hated to admit that Dooku might have a point, but the Order had already fallen out of favor with the Republic. Perhaps a step back wouldn't be the worst idea.

“And leave the Temple?” Ki-Adi protested.

“The temple here on Coruscant was not the first, nor will it be the last,” Plo mused. “Do you have any more to say, Count?”

Dooku did not immediately respond. “Master Yoda,” he said, hesitant. “Did he–”

“Your former master lives,” Plo assured him. “Where he is, we do not know. But he lives.”

Personally, Obi-Wan didn't understand how Dooku could ask after Yoda. It wasn't too long ago that Dooku actively tried to kill him, but that was the Sith for you.

Dooku nodded. “And… what will become of the young lady I met down in the detention block? She would find clemency within the Confederacy, I assure you.”

“Your offer is generous, Count,” Plo said, “but we look after our own. As soon as the war no longer demands our full attention, we intend to assist her rehabilitation.”

Dooku scoffed but did not comment. “Our meeting here is done, then. I thank you for your time.”

With a final nod, he – somehow – swept out of the room, his guards trailing behind. As the door hissed shut behind him, a collective sigh of relief swept through the Council.

“Let us never do that again,” Kit said, cracking a smile.

Inwardly, Obi-Wan agreed. Meeting Dooku on the battlefield was bad enough. Somehow, meeting him here in the Council chamber was even worse.

“Surely we don’t mean to actually listen to him,” Ki-Adi said. “It’s obvious he’s trying to manipulate us for his own gain.”

“Perhaps.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought. “Unfortunately, he did have a solid argument.”

“Indeed,” Plo said. “We have much to consider. Still, the future of the Order can wait. We have more immediate matters at hand. Obi-Wan, what is your assessment of Anakin’s suitability for the Council?”

Obi-Wan blinked at the non-sequitur. They were talking about this _now?_ He composed himself quickly and scrambled to collect his thoughts.

“Anakin… has his struggles,” he admitted. “His situation when he joined the Order was unique, and the Order – myself included – failed him. Despite this, he is a young man who wants to do right by those in his life and pulled through when it mattered most. He is more comfortable in his life now than in the thirteen years I have known him. If he were to accept the nomination, I believe he would bring a new, fresh perspective to the Council, which would be beneficial to us moving forward."

“Very well,” Plo said. “I will inform him of his nomination this afternoon. Is there anything else we must discuss before this meeting adjourns?”

Nobody responded. Even though there was much to be discussed, the audience with Dooku had rattled them thoroughly, and Plo swiftly adjourned the meeting. Obi-Wan could not deny that he was grateful to be done. That had been more than enough excitement for one day.

* * *

“… I implore the jury to consider the charges: high treason, three counts of murder, and one count of attempted murder. As this trial has shown, it cannot definitively be concluded whether the Jedi acted in self-defense. Similarly, while there is evidence of unsavory activity conducted by the higher government offices, much of it cannot be indisputably tied to the Chancellor alone, much less a grand scheme of his creation. Just how far can we carry a case that raises more questions than answers? As a citizen of the Republic, it is my duty to leave you with one final request: do not let this case go after a verdict is reached. Do not allow these questions to remain unanswered. The future of the galaxy – our own future – depends on it.”

\- Defense Attorney Barr Zoran (h. Corellia)

 _Galactic Republic v. Palpatine_  
Closing Statement given 16.08.12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful art this chapter was commissioned from the amazing NikScribbles/Bladelei! [You can see a larger version here!](https://nikscribbles.tumblr.com/post/638620343706255360/always-in-motion-is-the-future-click-for-better)
> 
> As always, we appreciate each and every comment we get. Thanks for reading!


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